Alright, I& #39;ll spill the tea...

The Bicycle:

I was 4 or 5, and with my sister and her friends at the park. There& #39;s a deep, wide gully, which kids with BMX-style bikes used to ride like a halfpipe. On this night, I got away from my sister and headed for the gully... https://twitter.com/Fancysez/status/1264742958248542208">https://twitter.com/Fancysez/...

...unaware that one of the boys was coming at it from the other side. No idea why he didn& #39;t adjust course or swerve, but the end result was me getting hit. It ripped open a big gash on my leg, which left a nice-sized scar that is still prominent nearly 40 years later.

The irony is that a few years later, I was hit by a truck, and with the exception of a few fingernails torn off, barely a scratch. Likewise when, several more years later, I was hit by a car.

Now, the slashing...

I was 10, some of us agreed to get together at the playground, under the guise of playing baseball) and go into the bush to play strip spin the bottle (since no one brought cards or knew how to play poker anyway). We did, it was silly because we were hiding in boxes. Anyway...

While we were dressing, one of the boys found a folding knife and was curious about how sharp it was. Naturally, instead of slicing a leaf or a branch, he swiped the back of my leg, and suddenly, there& #39;s a lot of blood. Damn blade was sharp, alright.

Anyway, two idiot 10 y.o.s hustle to his grandpa& #39;s house across the playground, using my baseball glove to staunch the bleeding, and get it cleaned and poorly bandaged, when his grandpa, finds us. Knowing he& #39;d get a lickin& #39;, we lied and said I fell. Then we had chocolate milk.

My childhood is a strange series of episodes which, strung together, makes people wonder how I survived to adulthood...