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Sometimes the road life takes you on, is full of twists and turns. One twist and turn in my life is the case of my broken nose. It all started when my parents began to enroll me in extracurricular activities, so I could find my thing, what I was into. First it was dance - pink was not my colour, and I didn’t like the tights, so I stopped dancing. Then it was karate - although I was good at it, despite my clumsiness, kicking the air isn’t really what I considered to be a good time. Lastly, it was baseball. Amazingly I enjoyed baseball, despite the fact that really didn’t know how to play and well...I am afraid of the ball. This fear may have seemed rather foolish then but ever since it broke my nose, it is completely understandable.
That fateful day all started during a game at R.V. Downey. A fellow teammate and I were practicing our pitching and batting skills before it was out to step up to the plate. When I look back at what happened next, I remember it clearly, word-for-word, action-by-action. I noticed the ball coming towards me, it seemed almost slow motion, and I was telling myself to, "...step aside...", "...duck...", "...JUST DO SOMETHING!!...". Despite the desperate pleas to myself, I just stood there, slowly going cross-eyed as the ball came dangerously closer to my face. Finally, the ball and my nose made contact and I screamed as my nose started to bleed. My fellow teammate ran to my dad, who was watching the game. My dad turned around, noticed my nose was gushing blood and laughed. Laughing is my dad’s theory on how to keep children calm in trying times, however when one’s nose is gushing blood, it is a very flawed theory. Unfortunately in my time of medical need, my mom was away with the car and we did not have any Kleenex on hand. Lucky for me, a lady who was also watching the game had a cooler of ice and Kleenex. Also lucky for me, my mom arrived shortly after.
The difference between my mom and dad in time such as these is really...