Broken arms

When I was a kid, I broke my arm twice.

The first time was on an October morning in 1994. I remember seeing the yellow leaves on the chokecherry tree in the backyard. I was jumping on the trampoline with my brother David, and after being bounced, I landed on my arm on the tramp. I went inside with my arm hurting. I don't remember a whole lot about the day, but I think my mom knew immediately it was broken--so we missed my cousin Chancey's baptism. I remember getting a little pink bean-shaped dish in case I needed to throw up. At the doctor's office, I got some Halloween stickers. My cousins came and gave me a picture book about a kid and a tree house. It seems like my family asked me if I wanted any candy, and I said I wanted green frogs, but they couldn't find them so they got me blue sharks instead.

The second time was a March evening in 1997. I was jumping on the tramp again with David, but there were also two girls about three years older than me, Taryn Pay and her friend. We were playing crack the egg, where you fold yourself up and the others bounce you until you open up. I had been the egg, and I had been opened up. I was on my hands and knees on the mat when I was bounced up, and when I hit the mat again, my arm started hurting. It felt just like it did when I had broken it two and a half years before. I went inside and lay down on my bed, crying in pain. I remember Taryn's friend came inside to use the bathroom, and she saw me in pain. David came inside and I think gave me some ice. He was unusually nice to me. At InstaCare, I got a sling with Snoopy on it. At that time, not only was I not interested in Snoopy, I thought I was too mature for cartoons in general, so I wasn't overly happy with it.