Do not stick a bobby pin inside of an electrical socket
Do not stick a 9V battery to your braces
Do not eat cocoa before it has been sweetened
Do not stick your tongue on a pole in the winter
Do not eat paste
Do not chew with your mouth open
Do not roll your eyes at your mother
Do not stomp your feet unless you are happy and you know it
Do not grab toys out of your siblings hands
Do not cut people off in traffic
Do not say mean things
Do not accept dares
Do eat chocolate at least 3 times a day
Do play on the computer
Do act silly in public places
Do take naps
Do watch mindless television
Do read a lot
Do write actual letters it's a lost art
Do pat yourself on the back once in a while
Do buy yourself a present every now and then
Do take time for yourself
Do be a true friend
Do laugh a lot
Follow these simple rules in life, and you will be a happy camper.
Have you ever gotten a bruise that you have no idea where it came from? And then everybody who sees it asks where you got it? All you can do is shrug your shoulders and mumble an "I don't know." That is me most of the time. Right now I have a ginormous bruise on the back of my leg. It is ugly, purple, blue and brownish. I tripped on a scooter and the thing flipped up and hit my leg. I guess I should be glad it was my calf and not my shin. OUCH! I have another ugly one on my hip. It even has a scrap to go with it. I have no idea where that one came from. Although I am willing to bet, that when I hip checked whatever it was, I probably thought, "That will be a bruise!" Scars, though are different. We have a tendency to remember those. I think it is because there is story behind each one.
When I was about ten years old, I went with my friend to her dad's work. While we were waiting for her mom to do whatever she needed to do--yeah back in the day when you could just run in--we ran around the truck chasing each other as kids often do. Instead of being in a parking lot, it was loose tiny gravel and dirt. Well wouldn't you know it, clumsy me munched it. I scraped up my left knee pretty good. It was dirty and bloody. My friend's mom did her best to clean me up, but it really needed to be washed out. After we got home, my mom did that. Or rather, she tried. You see, a lot of the tiny gravel bits had embedded themselves into my open flesh. I remember her trying to pick them out. There were some that just weren't coming. What's a mom to do. I didn't need a doctor. It wasn't that bad. I am a bleeder so yeah it was bloody.
Many years have passed and I still carry the mark from that day, complete with the little tiny bits of gravel and dirt that refused to leave my body. I had a guy I worked with once call it "wicked." I thought, ummm okay. So I have a wicked cool scar on my knee all because I played chase with a friend on tiny loose gravel bits. Maybe I should change my story. Any thoughts?