My son and I were unloading some things from the car. I had climbed into the back and was wresting with a large, portable awning. It was wedged in tightly, and it was heavy.
I gripped one corner of the canvas bag with my right hand and pulled. Hard. It wouldn’t budge, so I pulled harder. The canvas began to slip through my fingers, so I decided to lean in and give it one last pull.
My hand slipped from the canvas, and my fist recoiled – smashing into the right side of my face.
It hurt. I saw stars. I climbed out of the car and stood there, swaying. My cheek hurt.
My son, hearing “something” came around to the back of the car to see what happened. I was standing there a bit disoriented. I explained to him what I had done, and that I would probably have a bruised face.
He thought for a minute and with all the sympathy he could muster, he said,
“You need to come up with a better story.”
Sorry about that. Back to the conversion stories.
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You could have felt your pain alone and none would be the wiser. However, the way you told your mishap brought a chuckle. I hope your face heals quickly.
It can be so irritating when your brother is doing that “stop hitting yourself; stop hitting yourself” and you’re an only child.
AuntSue
I feel your pain, and the unsympathetic fruit of your loins.
Nothing says “Awesome!” Like punching yourself in the face! I hope you heal quickly!