Silly Old Bear

When I was a little boy (with three brothers), one day we decided to play Cowboys and Indians. For some reason, I didn’t have a toy gun, so I improvised. I got a pair of blunt-ended elementary school scissors, unfolded them, and — voila! — a makeshift gun (what a smart little boy I was!).

Everything was going fine, until I lost my balance and tripped while chasing Indians down the hall. In an instant, my blunt-ended “gun” was embedded in my nose, less than an inch from my left eye. I’m sure it hurt, and I’m sure I cried. But the main thing I remember is being scared that I was going to get in trouble! So I quickly sneaked out the front door and sat down on the brick flower bed, leaving a trail of blood behind me.

My Dad found me, took me inside, didn’t spank me (whew!), and quickly put a butterfly bandage on my nose to close up my “gunshot wound”.

Forty-something years later, I still have a noticeable scar on the left side of my nose. It has served its purpose to remind me of a very important lesson. To this day, I never use blunt-ended scissors in place of a gun when playing Cowboys and Indians!

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NOTE: The idea for this post came from “Today’s Writing Prompt” over at “The One-Minute Writer“.

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