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.
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!