Sunday, December 4, 2011

High five in the face

I hit myself in the face with a hammer.

Who does that?

People like me, who get so involved with the umph needed to pull out a nail that I get my face so close, and my brother says, "Be careful, you're going to hit yourself in the face."

A couple plays later (football talk), it happened.

I couldn't get the nail out and before I knew it, my face (mouth, more specifically) was perfectly aligned with the hammer handle that when its inevitable slip happened, I felt like I was in a bar fight and had been sucker punched.

My hand immediately flew to my mouth and I could feel tears marinating in my ducts.

"Are you okay?" my brother asked, not missing a beat in the nail he was extracting. "I told you to be careful."

I wasn't speaking. Just holding onto my face.

"I called it," he chuckled. "Are you okay?"

And then, my line:

"I don't know, am I? Are my teeth okay?" And then I started crying.

At this point, I can tell you I'm breathing, which I suppose means I'm okay. But I need you to tell me that I have all my extremities and that I'm not bleeding out.

I just have a fat lip. It's cut on the inside and bruised, and my gum above my front teeth is cut.

Later that night, my brother said, "I bet you $5 you're either going to have this as a Facebook status or a blog...wait, probably both."

Consider it done.

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