The Story Of The "Gash"

Here’s how it happened. I was all alone at home. Mom and the kids had gone across the road to the schoolroom. I had the house to myself. I had a list of things I had to do, but first off I was to take my bath. I washed my hair, so now it was time to shave. As I was shaving, I let my mind wander. I can’t remember now what I was thinking about, but it probably had to do with my long list of chores. :) All of a sudden, I feel a stinging pain. “Yeaow!” I scream and look where my pain was coming from. Blood. Ooh! I’d shaved my skin off! The blood is pouring! The “gash” is close to two inches long! I panic. It’s deep! My water turns red. I feel queasy. I want to faint. I don’t know what to do. I want to call Mom, but she left the cell phone with me. She has no phone. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!! I’M GOING TO BLEED TO DEATH!! Calm yourself, Gera. You’re going to be alright. I grab the wash cloth and hold it tightly around the wound. I hop into my clothes, the whole time trying to hang on to the washcloth. “EEUUWE! There’s blood on the floor!” Queasy feeling is still here. I run to the kitchen to find a band aid. Where are they? Oh, there they are, in the clothes basket, where we always keep them! :) One’s not going to be enough. Two just barely covers it. I finally calm down a bit, but I still feel queasy. I go to the refrigerator and get some lemonade. That helps a little. By this time the band aids are soaked, so I remove them and get some fresh ones. Now I look at that long LONG list. I really want to go to Mom, but she will be expecting this list to be done. So I wash the dishes, sweep, clean the doors, vacuum, etc. I change the band aids again. Now, I feel weak, but I’ll bravely walk up the road to Granny’s house/school room. Shanna sees me. She gives me a bag of several orders of ‘tater babies that Grandpa bought us. I tell her the tragedy that has befallen me. She says I look pale, and that I am to eat an order of ‘tater babies before I came to Grandpa and Grandma’s house. I obey. I tell Mom all about it. I get sympathy from her and all my siblings. I go up to my Grandparents’ house, and find that Shanna has told them all about it. I get sympathy from them. I show them the wound. It’s still bleeding. They give me more sympathy. “Hey, I could get used to this!” :)
So, in summary, my wound started with a new razor.
The End.
~Gera~