On the fifth Fun Monday, I spill the beans

karisma is hosting today's fun monday event. here's her assignment:

I want you to take a trip down memory lane, and keep right on going, right back to your childhood. And I want to hear "THAT STORY". You remember the one? Yes, you do! The one your parents, siblings, extended family or friends, would never let you forget, live down or get over!"

i have always been known more for my enthusiasm than for my grace.

we were eating dinner on the front porch--a rare occurrence. my parents, trish and guv, were eating in the dining room, like respectable people. but we kids were outside on the porch with our plates and glasses. you need to know how unusual this was. normally, we all ate at two long tables pushed together, trish at one end, guv at the other, and us kids five on a side.

during dinner, we played classical music on the record player. we were not allowed to answer the phone or watch television or leave the table without permission. in the winter, we dined by candlelight.

we were Learning Manners.

so on this summer evening, when we were set free and told we could eat outside--well, this was a remarkable event. we sat on the porch steps and ate our dinner and watched the cars go by. (this picture is of holly and the twins on the porch, though not on that particular night.)

the food, of course, was inside with trish and guv.

so when i wanted more green beans, i picked up my plate, ran into the house, spooned out some beans, and ran through the living room back toward the front door.

but i didn't quite make it. i caught my foot on the corner cabinet, and i fell.

my plate went flying. beans went everywhere, all over the new gold shag rug. and my fork--good lord, was that it, sticking out of my arm??

i burst into loud wails.

trish picked me up, got me in the car, and we zoomed down to the hospital emergency room. in the car, i had to hold the fork handle steady to keep it from wobbling inside my arm. the tines poked out the other side. (it did not go through the thickest part of my arm. but seeing those tines was alarming nonetheless.)

tears streamed down my dirty little face.

at St. Luke's, the ER doctor pulled the fork out swiftly. it hurt. everything hurt. and then he made me lie down on the bed. the nurse pulled down my beige shorts and gave me a tetanus shot right to the butt. that hurt more than the fork.

i was told to lie still for a few minutes, to make sure i had no bad reaction. as i lay there, i kept thinking, i hope they pulled my shorts back up! i hope they pulled my shorts back up! my greatest fear then (and now, actually) was to think that i was lying there face-down with my arse bare for all the world to see.

finally the doctor came back in, and told me i could sit up. whew. my clothes are in order.

he asked if i wanted to keep the fork. "what for?" my mother asked.

"I don't know, a souvenir?" he said.

i shook my head. we went home. my arm hurt. my butt hurt.

when we got home, dinner was over, the dishes were done, and the beans -- and everything else -- were gone.