Close Call? More like a Near Miss

I can remember a time when something bad happened, however, it didn’t result in the worst way.

When I was little, about 5 or 6 years old, I went to a neighborhood playground with my sister. There were slides, a jungle gym and some really cool horse swings (kind of like these).

I had a favorite swing and never used any of the other ones. That particular day some other kid was using my swing. I was not happy about it and a fight ensued.

I told the kid to get off the swing because it was MINE! They said, “NO!” and started to swing. Again I yelled, “Get off of it! It’s MINE!” “NO!” they yelled back as they swung higher. Without a second thought, I walked over and stood in front of the swing and I told them again to get off the swing. And then it happened… BAM!
The swing hit me knocking me to the ground. I was crying. I heard a girl scream, “Oh my God! She’s bleeding!” Blood was everywhere.

My sister picked me up and hurried me home. Upon entering the house, my mom heard me crying and came running. “What happened?”, she asked grabbing a towel and an ice pack (made with a water-filled rubber glove). My sister explained.
Then mom made the dreaded phone call [to my dad]. I just knew he’d be furious for having to leave work.
He wasn’t suppose to use the work truck for anything other than work, but rushed right home. He scooped me up and put me in the truck. Then got in on his side and drove off with me sitting there holding a ‘frozen hand’ to my face.

They cleaned me up, put some iodine and a bandage on the cut above my right eye, and sent me home. No stitches, thankfully.
And thank GOD I still have my vision!

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