I’ve always been a mama’s boy. Since day one, even if I don’t remember it, I have always stuck close to her. Mostly because she is a teacher, and I would ride with her to school every morning and still do ride with her to school every morning. However, one day when I was four it was different, me and my dad were left home alone. Unsurprisingly I do not remember why we were at home or what we did but I do remember missing my mother. It may have been one of her uncommon trips she had to do for her old school because I remember being really excited for her coming home.

Another thing about younger me was I was clumsy, especially when it came to stairs. By age nine, I had fallen down and up at least six sets of stairs. Luckily, most of these encounters did not result in me getting significantly hurt.

I heard the garage door opening and the promise my dad head made earlier about my mom coming home that day, so I ran to see. I opened the door to see my mom in the driver’s seat of her car talking on the phone with someone. I yelled at her while jumping in the door frame that led to the garage. She noticed me and I kept on jumping. Just to paint a picture, this is what our garage looks like; it’s a three-port space that can fit three cars, but we only use two of them for actual vehicles. My mom parks in the middle port, my dad at the port closest to the house. And in between the port where my dad parks and the door to enter the house is four little brick steps. Easy to go up, easier to go down. So picture this: little four year old me, who is incredibly clumsy, in the door frame leading to the garage, brick steps below me and I’m jumping out of excitement. You’ve probably inferred it already, but I slipped and fell down the brick steps. My mom had looked away and my dad was not in the kitchen or going to the garage so he did not see me, so they were met to the sound of a child screaming bloody murder because he had cut his leg on the brick steps an now being half way under my dad’s car.

            There are only two things I remember after that moment. I remember my parents rushing to me and I remember the car ride to the children’s hospital. I have vivid memories of bleeding severely and thinking my entire leg was split open. However, I have been told that was not the case and that it was bad but not as bad as I envision it even now.

            What I have been told happened is after my parents checked on me they brought me inside and started to DEBATE on what to do. Yes, DEBATE if their child now bleeding out his leg should be taken to the hospital or not. I apparently also was not screaming and was not all that phased by it until they brought the towel out to clean the blood off my leg and the towel touched the exposed flesh on my leg. They did end up realizing I would need stitches, so they took me to the children’s hospital over in Knoxville (I lived in Andersonville at the time so that was a long drive) and tried to keep me from bleeding on my mom’s car. She stayed in the back with me making sure I would feel loved and safe as this all was happening.

            I remember nothing of the hospital visit and I have been told nothing about it either. Just that it was expensive, and I got stitches. I do remember wearing stitches for three months after it had happened and my mom pulling them out while at my grandma’s house. I also remember crying as she pulled them out because it hurt like heck. After that it was basically all over. I would proceed to have some of the worst luck of my life on stairs for the next five years of my life. I fell both up and down five other flights of stairs. If you want to have an accident regarding stairs falling up is not fun, I do not recommend it since you trip go up a step or two then fall right back down them. It hurts trust me 2/10 experience. Falling down is like a 3/10 experience so I do not recommend it either, but it is preferable.

            None of my other stairs experiences are all that entertaining, only two other have been slightly interesting but nothing super notable. To be honest, I am still very clumsy when it comes to stairs. Now having lived 17 years, I have probably fallen on stairs a grand total of 12 times. Do not be like me, go up and down stairs slowly.