#26. There’s no worse feeling than that millisecond you’re sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.
I think we’ve all flipped over backward in a chair but I once took it one step further.
When I was about 4 or 5 years old I came up with the idea to sit on top of a broom handle. I’m not sure where this not-so-bright idea came from but in my weird and crazy little girl imagination I just knew I could do it.
I got our broom, which was a straw broom like this:
I then grabbed a stool and climbed on top. I thought I was going to be able to stand the broom up and sit on top of the handle just like you’re sitting on a chair. Straight back and knees bent. Just like this…
Oh year...that makes a lot of fucking sense. Let the fun begin!!!!At that young age I didn’t understand the physics of balancing a child-sized ass on a stick that was about an inch and a half in diameter much less the possible implications of sitting an ass that has a hole in it on top of that stick. On top of a stick that had about a foot of straw bound the bottom.
Did I think I was a fucking illusionist?? Sit on top of a broom handle like I’m sitting on a chair?? I’m not even sure David Copperfield could master that feat without damaging himself.
So back to the stool. I stood there and steadied the broom beside of me. Keeping my hand on the the broom handle, I eased by ass back and sat down, removing my feet from the stool. Almost immediately, the broom bristles collapsed and I went flying backward. I thought death was near! My ass hurt from the broom, my head hurt from crashing into the floor, and my pride hurt from not being able to do the stunt. Had I fallenl through the floor I would have crawled off in shame underneath the house and died like an injured rat.
I had been undergoing this venture in privacy, of course. My parents would have stopped me immediately and probably whacked my ass with the broom. They both came running as soon as they heard the crash and found me sprawled out in front of washer and dryer with my culprits: Mr. Broom and Mr. Stool.
What was I supposed to tell them?? Yes, Mother…Father, I was trying to sit atop a broom handle. Uh yeah but I think it sounded more like: Yeah..sniffle…I tried to sit on the broom..sniffle.
They didn’t really care about how it happened all they wanted to know was if I’d hurt myself. Did I hurt myself? Hell yeah, I was nearly sodomized by a broom handle and my body slammed into a hardwood floor at roughly the speed of sound. However, my reply was No, I’m okay.
A few hours later I finally confessed that my butt hurt but I wouldn’t even verbalize it. I just told my father that I had indeed hurt myself and pointed to the pained lump of flesh that was my ass.
I was an idiot! Hell, I still am! But at least I learned a great lesson that day...unless you want shove a broom up your ass and poke a whole in your bowel never try to balance yourself on the end of the broom.
Chick owwwwwwwwwt…
