This is a throwback to my childhood. I’m not really sure what made me think of this story, and as my mother likes to embellish things, there may be some of that within the next paragraph or two.
My family, when I was growing up, would make a nearly annual pilgrimage to the great state of Florida. Generally, we would make the trek to the St. George Island/Appalachicola area on the Gulf side of the state for those of you unfamiliar with the area.
Well for reasons I don’t recall, my parents decided to deviate this fateful summer and we went to Sanibel, Florida where my grandparents on my mother’s side enjoyed vacationing. My grandmother was not fond of winter and would routinely migrate south from the frigid Georgia winters to the sunny sands of Florida. That was one of those embellishment things I was talking about earlier, most of the time they’d go for about a week in February (at least when they did actually go).
Other than the much longer drive, the trip went off without a hitch–that is until my brother decided it would be a good idea to “race” on the beach.
That’s not a big deal, huh?
Well, one wouldn’t tend to think so, but as it turns out, that was the day we learned about the mystical healing powers of the aloe plant.
My brother took off running down the beach and yelled, “I’ll race you!” laughing as he knew he’d gotten the better of me. I took off after him, but since he’d gotten the early lead, I soon gave up. He knew he’d “won” and turned his head to gloat as he continued running down the beach only to veer into a very large chunk of driftwood.
I can’t remember exactly how old we were, but I know that I was old enough to find that hilarious to the point of falling down laughing. My mother was obviously terrified that he had impaled himself on something when he dropped like a sack of potatoes, which made me laugh harder. Fortunately for my brother, Dad was there to save him from the clutches of his driftwood attacker, and we went back to the house we were staying in to seek first-aid. Equally important for my brother was the fact that he didn’t sever a major artery or his boyhood, which he was precariously close to having done.
Sorry, Wes. I’m not sure what made me think of it, but it gave me a chuckle today.