A friend woke up with a little bit of a black eye this week. She's not sure why or what happened, but suspects a blood vessel may have broken on it's own.
I'll admit I was giving her some grief over it and even texted her yesterday asking if she wanted me to go buy her an eyepatch. Saying that out loud makes me giggle like a little school girl. I don't think she found it nearly as funny.
I shouldn't poke fun I guess. I've had a couple of black eyes in my time. My first one was in grade 6. I got bitch slapped by my friend Stacy as we were having a dispute over a hammer we were using to build forts. She slapped me and it's true, you do see stars and tweety birds for a brief couple of seconds. The next day I went to school with a big ol' shiner.
A few days later, I was playing out in our yard at night. I was standing under the big yard light by the corrals tossing a softball up in the air and catching it. My throws got higher and higher to the point that one went up, I lost sight of it in the glare of the light, and the next thing I knew it came down and popped me in the eye. Yup, it sure did leave me with another black eye on the other eye.
The next day I went to school again with another big ol' shiner to match the other one. I remember standing by the shelves when the teacher came over with a very concerned look on her face and asked me if there was something going on at home I wanted to talk about. Two black eyes on a grade 6 kid tends to spark a little panic that a call to social services might be in order apparently. I assured her however that everything was fine, I just had a little bad luck.
What can I say, I had an interesting childhood ;)
Tia
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