'Yes. Take you sister with you!'
My poor sister. I always complained about taking her out with me when I went out to play.
But my mum always made me.
And nine times out of ten we would head back, about an hour or so into our time out, because she'd injured herself in some ridiculous way.
I often wonder where my oldest son gets his extreme clumsiness from, but thinking back on it, I wonder no more. Here are my favourite ridiculous accident situations involving my poor younger sister.
1. The time a wasp got in her shoe and I got into trouble
'Push me higher! Higher!'
J was about 5 or 6 years old, and I was around 9 when I took her to the wee park at the back of our house. We were staying at our grandparent's house which was at the back of a scheme of houses in suburbia. It was a lovely area and great for kids to play about in - totally safe.
I was pushing her on the baby swings that fateful day, when all of a sudden, she started screaming and crying out of nowhere. Panicking, I started to try to slow the swing down, but she was making such a fuss, it was ineffective.
My friends were panicking too, and shouting at me to let her off. When I eventually got the swing stopped, I lifted her out.
'What's wrong? What happened? Why are you...'
But before I could get an answer out of her, she took off! Shocked, I just kind of stood and watched her. And panicked - my sister and I often had disagreements which usually ended up in us physically fighting, and if mum saw her crying like that she'd think I'd hit her or something. I was scared I was going to get into trouble. I had to get to her before mum did.
She was never that fast, so I managed to catch up with her quite quickly - just as she rounded the corner into my grandparent's back garden, right into a huge bush full of brambles and thorns.
She sat in the bush now, crumpled and crying - a right sorry state.
My mum had heard her screams as J ran up the path, before she hit the thorns and now stood, glowering down at us, before lifting my now bereft sister out of the bush.
'What did you do to her?'
'I, I , I...' I had no words. I was clueless as to what had actually happened.
I started to get into trouble for chasing my sister - for making her fall into the bush.
Astounded, I couldn't begin to explain what had just happened - I just stood there, watching my sister as she sat on the floor and screamed and pointed at her shoe.
My mum took us both into the house, chastising me for not looking after my sister properly, my sister roaring and limping now; had she hurt herself when she'd fallen? Taking her shoe off, my mum gave a gasp.
Emtying it out onto the worktop, we 'ewww'd' at the remains of a very sticky, very squashed wasp.
The wasp had flown into her shoe and stung her while she was on the swing.
How does that happen to anyone?
2. The day she was humped by a dog while rollerskating
Ah, what a glorious day that was. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and it was a very quiet Sunday morning when I decided to go out on my shiny new roller-skates. I had been waiting since Christmas to get a good day for this, and today was the day.
Then came the inevitable.
'Take your sister with you!'
Suddenly, the sun was dull, the birds were playing morose melodies and I was a grumpy roller-skater. My idea of spinning off into the distance, going at phenomenal speeds and doing amazing jumps off the three stairs at the top of the hill were gubbed.
J could barely stand up in her skates, which meant we were either doomed to come home before we even left the garden path because of some crazy injury, or she'd at the very least, stop me from fulfilling my dreams of glory by making me hold her up the whole time.
Thankfully, she agreed to keep her shoes on until we got to the flat path beside the wall and changed her shoes there, while I glided gracefully ahead of her, grumbling the whole time.
As she got ready, sitting on the wall, I skated up the path a bit, angling for the three steps, when I saw the black dog who lived around the corner come ambling along.
He was a lovely old beast, quite big and ancient, and followed around by a tiny and even more ancient woman with a gruff voice, who shouted ineffectually at him when he went to greet passers-by. His name, oddly for a big hulking black dog, was Breeze.
She was already shouting at him, 'Breeze, Breeze', her voice like a smoker's 100-a-day when he started to make his way towards J, who was just standing up, rather wobbly, on her skates. She wobbled over to the dog to give him a pat, and just as she did that, the dog started to sniff her excitedly and wag his tail.
She started to giggle at him - right enough, we'd never seen him so animated before. But it seemed the woman was panicking, as she began to shuffle even faster and shout her hoarse shout even louder.
'BREEZE! NO! BREEEEEEEZE!'
What happened next has scarred my sister for life. The dog leaped up on his back legs and jumped on her, wagging his tail the whole time.
My sister started to shout on me, wobbling all over the place on her skates; she couldn't run away in case she fell over. How she never did is beyond me! She was stuck.
It was probably the funniest thing I'd ever seen - I couldn't move for laughing. I was creased, I was paralyzed. The sight of the tiny old lady, the very happy dog and my panicking sister on skates will stay with me forever.
Needless to say, after the lady had convinced the dog to disembark, J had stopped huffing enough to change back into her shoes, and I'd managed to stop laughing, we had to go home. Where I got into trouble for laughing instead of helping.
And that is why I am going to hell.
It was a bit like this:
But with skates.
3. The time J's bike fell apart
I've never seen this happen before, or since. How do these things happen to my sister?
We were casually riding along on a bike ride through the park. We had travelled far and wide without incident. Feeling quite smug, and like maybe we had turned a corner in the whole 'taking J out with me without anything bad happening' thing, we were heading home.
On the last stretch, we had to go on the pavements to get back towards our grandparents' house. Our three friends went first up the kerb, bump, bump, bump.
J was in front of me.
All I saw was her go 'bump' and then suddenly, without warning, crash onto the ground. Downwards.
I braked sharply, missing her rear tyre by inches.
My friends had stopped - one dropped their bike to the ground and chased after something, running back with it in his hands.
I dropped my own bike to the ground and went to see my sister, who now, still sat on her bike, helmet on, knees scuffed on the floor, but still sitting perfectly upright, crying, on her bike.
Which was missing a front wheel. It had fallen off when she bumped up the kerb.
The god of bike-riding accidents had spoken.
We all stood agape. Getting that bike, the front wheel, plus all of our bikes and my upset sister back to the house was a journey in itself.
Try explaining that one to your parents.
4. The time my sister was saved by Jesus
Bad luck and just general clumsiness has followed my sister into adulthood.
I can take her out with me now, happily, without worrying that we'll only have some epic accident and have to return home within 10 minutes, but she still has the occasional spill. She even goes out on her own.
A few years ago though, when she was still a student, she was due to meet friends for a Halloween party in a local bar.
They'd all dressed up, and as is usual with students out on the pull, dressing up in something a bit flirty, over something scary was more popular. Hence, J decided to go as a Police Woman.
She looked swish all done up in her uniform, and being the kind gal she was, offered to put her friend's Minnie Mouse ears in her house. Living across the road in the city centre, this wan't a problem. Having a drink or five before she had even left the house was.
Having successfully deposited the ears, she went to skip down the stairs merrily to rejoin her pals. J, being J, tripped, and flew head over heels down the steep stone steps, all fifteen or so of them, down to the bottom.
Lying in a crumpled, bloodied heap and wondering what she had broken, my sister, who didn't feel much due to her previous alcohol consumption, heard a voice asking her if she was alright.
Looking up, she saw a man in white robes and long brown hair gazing down at her.
It was Jesus. It turns out he too was heading out for the evening.
Her legs in an unholy mess, her tights ripped beyond redemption and now a wee bit sore, J was lifted up by 'Jesus' and sorted out. He offered to take her home and make sure she was o.k.
After she declined his kind offer, she headed off in search of her disciples and more wine, only recalling the next day once she realized how sore her legs actually were, that the moral of the story is; Jesus Saves. And he's pretty hot.
|Looking good, ladies!|