Todd's Stories #14

First, I broke my pinky while snowboarding. I caught an edge, twisted around, and smacked my hand against the ground hard enough to break solely my pinky. If that weren't cool enough, I had to wear an entire hand cast for that one poor lil' pinky. Even worse, the pinky didn't heal properly and so I had to go to an occupational therapist for my pinky. That's right. I had to go to an occupational therapist for my pinky. Next, I had the infamous fainting incident which we all know and love so well by now. I was spreading cream cheese on my bagel, I fainted, I woke up on the ground, and had to spend the next few days vomitting and having tests run on me. And now, only two days ago, in what can only be summized as God laughing at my manhood, with a sick stomach and not sure if I had to vommit, I bent over, fainted, hit my head on a magazine rack, and had to get ten stitches above my eye.

While some kids have cool stories about their battle wounds, such as they were trying to do a 720 off of the half pipe but had to change their flight pattern to dodge a bird and fell on their arm and broke it, or they were off on a hike and had to fight off a pack of wild wolves with a walking stick but were bitten by one of them and need stitches across their chest, these stories above are my battle stories, and they could not be less manly. For all my manly qualites (i.e. my beard growing abilities) having bad-ass injuries is just not one of them. I guess we can't all be blessed with cool scar stories, but my injuries are as lame as they come.