Friday, August 9, 2013

Dumb Things Round 2

     I've already done a list about the dumb things I do, which you can go read here if you haven't already. It'll open in a new window, just in case you're one of those weisenheimers that always right clicks to select "new tab."

3 Dumb Things I Did When I Was Younger

1. Failed Bike Ramp

     It was the last day of school of second grade. I was overly exhilarated, feeling that by finishing the second grade, I was well on my way in life. Now, of course, I know that that was a puny hope, which was easily mangled and destroyed.

     I always rode my bike to school, after a couple futile attempts resulting in property damage. I thought I was pretty skilled at it, even though I couldn't ride with one hand. 

     My young mind was surging with adrenaline, now that I would be free of the torturous environment of the second grade classroom.

     I zipped along the main main road, trying to get home as quickly as my little bicycle would carry me. As I went along my merry little way, I noticed a few planks of wood lying on the side of the street.

     The way the topmost plank was laid formed a ramp of sorts, albeit only four inches wide. I had never attempted any sort of extreme thing upon my beloved bike. My mind was addled, so I felt a strong urge to try to ride the redneck ramp, and come off as freakin' awesome to anybody who happened to see me.

     My front wheel slipped off the plank of wood and took a sharp right turn. This resulted in me being propelled forward and off my bike, along the road for a few feet, and then landing on top of the furthest pieces of wood in the road.

     With my amazing luck, a few things happened. Number one, I didn't fall into the road. Another thing was that my bike was unscathed. Lastly, the school nurse or some other faculty member drove by as this happened, and stopped to take my bike and my pathetic crying person home.

2. Scared of Water Slides

     My family took a trip to Lagoon, and I had the opportunity to ride one of the water slides. Despite being young, I had quite a bit of height, which gave me access to a considerably larger number of rides than others my age. 

     I had the opportunity to ride a pretty sweet water slide (by my modern-day standards), and so I had climbed all the way to the top of it. I was third in line when I realized something. Oh my gosh. I'm reeeeeeally high up. I think I read somewhere that being high up and moving through water really fast does something bad to you. I shouldn't ride this. 

     I loudly said to myself something along the lines of, "OOPS. I FORGOT MY GOGGLES. I SHOULD PROBABLY GO GET THEM."

     Not wanting to show my cowardice, I slowly edged my way down the stairs, muttering excuses under my breath, in case anybody, heaven forbid, thought I was simply chickening out. 

     In the end, I think the crazy ugly kid with the bad hair-cut muttering things under his breath was a weirder sight than the whole chickening out thing.

3. Thinking Plastic Caused Diabetes

     I'm slightly tentative about telling this story, since I don't know if any of my former classmates will end up reading this at some point, but I think I'll tell it anyways.

     I'll be honest, in 5th grade, I still barely knew what diabetes was. I knew it was a disease, and that it could maybe kill you.

     In my fifth grade class, we had two pet guinea pigs. Everybody LOVED those things. Every one would take turns volunteering to take them home for the weekend, essentially 'pig sitting. It was awesome.

     While in 5th grade, I wore this ridiculously oversized orange jacket during the winter. Hey, it was warm. The ends of the sleeves had velcro straps to make it tighter, and the tips of the straps were rubber. 

     One day, I was holding one of the class guinea pigs, Patches, I think was his name. After he was put back in his cage, I noticed that a small part of one of the rubber tips of the straps had been nibbled very slightly. I checked seven times in a row to make sure I wasn't imagining things, and then I decided that Patches had definitely eaten part of my jacket.

     I showed a little concern at first, debating internally whether or not to tell the teacher what had happened. I decided that no harm had been done, and tucked away the information in my head.

     For a little while I was on edge, thinking that anytime some one talked about the animal away they would start throwing accusations at me. 

     Shortly afterward, Patches passed away. I'm probably wrong, but how I remember it, I was told he died of diabetes. I don't know if guinea pigs can even get diabetes, but I'll stick with that.

     I was shot with a tremendous amount of guilt. For the next year, I was completely convinced that Patches nibbling a tiny bit off of my jacket was the thing that had killed him. 


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