You know how every once in a while you like to pretend there is someone you can trust at the controls taking everything all serious so for just a moment or perhaps a few hours or maybe even a day you can throw caution to the wind, forget the responsibilities and play? Play like when you were a kid and the sun going down meant supper was ready but you didn't want to go in so you stayed out until your mother had to scream your and your brothers' names and when she did you convinced all the other kids you had enough time for one more round of hide and seek. And Ben Holland was it and he thought he was fast and he was pretty fast but you knew you were faster so after he got finished counting and all the other kids had made it to the base he finally found you but you took off as fast as you could and he was right on your heels so you shifted into turbo faster than fast speed and the swing set that was base had this little bar which made the letter A out of the side but the horizontal part of the A was not visible in the dim lighting and you were way too focused on making it to the base to comprehend the brutality of flesh at turbo faster than fast speed meeting the metal horizontal part of the A. You were clotheslined by a swing set and Ben Holland cried when he found you on the ground, your face covered in blood and all you could think was what a wuss and surely I beat him to base.
Good times, good times.
I think this is where I write a small note of gratitude to my emergency room ride.
Thank you for all those rides to the emergency room. Too many to count, huh?