| | I'm not one to complain, but tonight there's a story I'd like to share that revolves around our torn-up hall bathroom. About 20 after 9pm, my mom calls to me from the kitchen: "Zachary, are you going to get some exercise tonight?"
I was in the middle of something, so I called back, "Yea, maybe in a little bit." 10 minutes go by (if that) and I hear a familiar refrain: "I don't want to be up so late tonight..." and more extended thoughts about how we all need to shower early if we all want to shower, period. It turned into a mini-argument that occurs about thrice weekly since we pulled the original tub out of the hall bathroom a couple weeks ago.
The end result was that as soon as I was finished with what I was doing, I quickly donned my roller blades and headed out in a hurry - skating at a rapid pace down my normal route. Now, being Sunday night, of course everybody puts their trash out. Normally it's not a problem - people put their cans & whatever else out onto the curb, and there's not too much of an obstacle course to navigate as I make my way down 7st Ave Blvd (only in Bradenton) sidewalk. Tonight, it looked to be clear, so I headed down at a decent clip, jumping the few seams that I know are prone to give me problems and just generally flying, enjoying the Switchfoot song playing on my iPod. Further down the road, toward 67th St, as I passed a trash can next to a mailbox, I felt a stinging WHAP as I flew by. It was too dark to see what I had hit, but it wasn't so bad that I didn't feel like I couldn't go on, so I just kept going. When I returned home, I noticed that whatever I whacked had broken the skin on my shin where it hit. Thankfully we have some hydrogen peroxide - who knows what people put out with their trash!
So the immediate moral I guess is twofold: don't argue with your mom and watch out for stray trash!
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| | Posted 4/19/2009 10:51 PM - 1 View - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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