Picture this: Kids from the Danville-Neal Elementary School are bustling around. School has just let out for the day. It’s Wednesday. The kids are excited because there are only two more day until the weekend. The youngest kids are lined up in their respective color-coordinated waiting areas. They are so cute. They stand in anticipation as they wait for their mom’s or dad’s car to make its way to the front of the line. The teachers are there to accompany the children. It is a nice, beautiful sunny November day. It is today. Parents are teaming around. Cars are moving one-by-one toward the front of the line to pick up its precious cargo. This is normally a pretty uneventful activity. Today would be different.
Donnell Brown, my dad, was selected among the likely candidates from my family to go and retrieve emmyniece from school. He jumps in the Passat, all 280 lbs and 6’4” frame of him. Being the real patient person that he is, he decides to just park the car so that he can walk over and get my niece, thus saving precious time. He starts lumbering across the parking lot in the front of the school. The kids and teachers are waiting under the awning by the driveway. Parents are all over the place. He sees my niece. He does his typical overzealous greeting to Emmy. He grabs her by the hand. They make their way across the parking lot. At this point everything seems fine Emmy is waving by to her friends. Daddy is simply headed toward the car. This is when it all goes badly.
Now daddy is a strapping fellow, not little. Years ago, daddy tore the ligaments in his left ankle. He went to step off the curb. When he did, he rolled that same ankle. This is where the show began. His body was sent crashing to the ground. It’s ok though. The concrete curb and pavement broke his fall. Emmy scurried out of the way. His watch went flying under a car. The best we understand, he just broke three ribs. But, the most redeeming part of the whole deal is that the crowd had to be pleased with the performance. I wish I had been there. I know it sounds cruel of me. Other than cracked ribs, he’s fine.
I called daddy yesterday evening after he had gotten home. He began to tell me about his accident. I nearly wrecked laughing. I asked him if people saw him. He started laughing and moaning because of the pain. I was trying to drive while crying. What a gift. I thought I would share it with you.
Tim
Donnell Brown, my dad, was selected among the likely candidates from my family to go and retrieve emmyniece from school. He jumps in the Passat, all 280 lbs and 6’4” frame of him. Being the real patient person that he is, he decides to just park the car so that he can walk over and get my niece, thus saving precious time. He starts lumbering across the parking lot in the front of the school. The kids and teachers are waiting under the awning by the driveway. Parents are all over the place. He sees my niece. He does his typical overzealous greeting to Emmy. He grabs her by the hand. They make their way across the parking lot. At this point everything seems fine Emmy is waving by to her friends. Daddy is simply headed toward the car. This is when it all goes badly.
Now daddy is a strapping fellow, not little. Years ago, daddy tore the ligaments in his left ankle. He went to step off the curb. When he did, he rolled that same ankle. This is where the show began. His body was sent crashing to the ground. It’s ok though. The concrete curb and pavement broke his fall. Emmy scurried out of the way. His watch went flying under a car. The best we understand, he just broke three ribs. But, the most redeeming part of the whole deal is that the crowd had to be pleased with the performance. I wish I had been there. I know it sounds cruel of me. Other than cracked ribs, he’s fine.
I called daddy yesterday evening after he had gotten home. He began to tell me about his accident. I nearly wrecked laughing. I asked him if people saw him. He started laughing and moaning because of the pain. I was trying to drive while crying. What a gift. I thought I would share it with you.
Tim
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