Have I mentioned that I have two really cool scars? They are on my wrists. One is “Across the Road” and one is “Down the Street”. If you don’t know what I mean then you really haven’t planned your suicide lately. You might ask, “What’s this got to do with my Birthday”. Well, actually you ask, “What has this got to do with YOUR birthday”. But I’m being semantical (Is that even a word? Spell Check disagrees.)
March 21st, 1980 was my birthday. The Little Woman and I were living in Base Housing on George AFB. It was a busy time. Our Bundle Of Joy (Son #1) had popped out the month before. My parents had drove down from Marina to make sure he looked like me (I mean…share the Joy of the Blessed Event). Sorry.
Being an Only Child (I have never met my sister, but that’s another story). That means that when my Child Bride and My Parents start acting hinkey, it’s all about me. So if they get all sneaky so do I. I KNEW they were throwing me a Surprise Birthday Party. Wife and Dad doing Road Trips while Mom pinned me in their Motel Room (PINNED not nailed….pervs). I figured I’d intercept their plans. Most people go with the flow when they discover they are getting a Surprise Party. Not me. I decide to sneak into a bedroom window to surprise the Surprise.
Did I mention I was a klutz?
Cue the Mission Impossible music as I don’t go through the front door but sneak around to a bedroom window.Dunt,dunt da..da Dunt. Dunt.
As I tried to do the Window Trick and slide it open, it shattered. As it shattered my arms went through the window. I bled like a stuck pig. I was rushed to the E.R. for some Groovy Birthday Stitches. And dirty looks from the doctor as we tried to explain that I had not slashed my wrists.
Oh yeah…what was my Birthday Present for 1980? The one that had my wife and Dad sneaking around the town?