When I was little, my brother and I used to always play along the sidewalk in front of our house. We used it for fun things like running back and forth, skipping back and forth, biking back and forth, and so on.
Look how fucking cute we were.
Anyway, there were some neighbour kids in the neighbourhood, some of whom we got along with better than others. There was a set of three kids who lived just down the street who were sort of fun to play with, but also sort of mean. Like if you played with them for long enough, one of them would do something straight up evil just to see what would happen.
You know the ones.
On this particular day, my brother and I (at that time about seven and four respectively) were playing around when the three kids showed up and crashed our party. My brother and I – being of the extremely non-confrontational personality type – played along with it. Everything was going fine – a bit of a drag, but FINE – until I was like, running along side my brother’s bike – or maybe it was the boy kid’s bike – and I fell. Or maybe he pushed me. I’d like to say he pushed me because like I said, they weren’t very nice, but maybe I’m just remembering the story as an adult who can now see what jerks some kids are.
Bottom line: I fell. I was horizontal on the sidewalk.
And there she came.
The youngest sibling. A year younger than I, but so, so much scarier. (I wasn’t scary at all, except when I was super whiny and annoying and I don’t remember being that way because I was the one doing it.) She was on a tricycle and she came barreling at me with a look on her face so twisted I can only tell you to imagine a kid tri-cycling with the vigour of Danny Torrence from The Shining, only take his face and replace it with Chucky.
I basically saw it happen in slow motion, but I was paralyzed with fear. So I had to just sit there and watch in complete horror while that little twat rode her tricycle RIGHT OVER ME.
Naturally, my knee/leg got ripped open by the stupid wheels of her stupid tricycle and started to bleed like crazy. I still have at least one scar from that day. Not to mention the emotional trauma.
(I wouldn’t give that girl the time of day if I saw her tomorrow. Is that bad? I don’t care.)
That was the day I learned that getting run over by a bike sucks. I don’t recommend it.
Also maybe some children need to GET SOME BIKING MANNERS.