One More Time
Did something unusual today at my blog. Thanks to Katie Hawkins I strayed into a bit of humor. How many times have we asked:
One more time? Can I do this one more time? And how many times has catastrophe struck after that one more time?
Was recently reading a blog written by Katie Hawkins Truax called Growth, Heal, Change and specifically the entry called Enough is Enough. It reminded me of something that happened to me when I was a young boy, not much older then eight or nine.
Here’s something a little different today. Have you ever had this experience? You’ve been enjoying doing a repetitive act all day, maybe fishing? Casting your line out over and over. It’s getting dark or someone calls your name:
“C’mon, time for dinner.”
You look up and say oh just one more time. The person who called to you says alright ONE more time. And then catastrophe hits. I’m laughing now because looking back on my own experience is funny now, although it was far from funny at the time.
Picture the scene:
Middle of winter, snow on the ground, a sloping backyard and it’s getting dark. Dinner is just about ready. (I’m still laughing now.) My grandmother steps out on the breezeway and says:
Okay, Chris time to come in.
My grandfather is right beside me. I look up at him with puppy dog eyes and say:
One More time. Can I go one more time?
My grandpa was a lot like me, a pleaser. He glances down the back yard then looks in the kitchen window, attempting to figure out how much time it will take for me to go for one more sled ride down the yard vs how long it will take to get in the house. He relents. (Was there ever any doubt?) He nods. I’m off like a bullet on my red plastic sled. Little did I know that the snow was freezing and becoming a solid block of ice. Oh and did I forget to mention the jungle gym at the bottom of the hill? And remember it’s now getting dark.
WHAM! I went headfirst into that said jungle gym. Stumbling around in the dusk, I now realize the error, but like they say you can’t un-ring a bell. My grandfather is waiting for me at the top of the back yard and when I don’t appear he too realizes something is wrong. As I stumble up the long slope he sees that I’m hurt and now he starts thinking about his own mortality. See, my grandmother was the enforcer. Oh don’t get me wrong, she loved us but when it came to doling out discipline she was the one who doled it out.
It took just on look at me and my grandmother forgot all about the fact that I’d taken one more ride. My face was swelling up more by the minute. Dinner was forgotten and we all piled into my grandfather’s car and went to Backus Hospital in Norwich, Connecticut. In the end I wound up with a concussion and two HUGE black eyes.
Now every time I hear a child complain and say:
Oh, c’mon just one more time.
I laugh; sometimes to myself, sometimes I can’t keep it inside and I burst out laughing. Like I said the situation is funny now when I look back on what happened. Everyone, I’m sure has had a similar experience. If only we had listened to that voice. You know the one. The one in your head that KNEW you should call it quits. As a child, though, you’re invincible right? That is until you’re not.
Be Happy! Be Well! Be Positive!