Have you ever broken a bone?

Have you ever broken a bone? I sure have, and my stories are quite the collection of amusing mishaps.

The first time I broke my arm, I was a fearless kid, determined to conquer the world—starting with the swingset. I climbed to the top and hung off like a tiny daredevil. Everything was going great until my hands decided they’d had enough. Down I went, crashing to the ground and landing on my arm. Snap! Just like that, it was broken. Cue the tears, a rushed trip to the doctor, and a bright cast that quickly became a canvas for my friends’ doodles. Looking back, it’s pretty funny how my grand adventure ended.

Fast forward a few years, and my talent for breaking bones found a new target. I was racing my friend down the street, confident in my speed. I glanced back to see how far ahead I was, feeling pretty proud of myself. But when I turned around, there was a fire hydrant right in front of me! I tried to dodge it, but ended up flipping over it instead. I landed hard, and there went my arm again. Another break, another cast, and more signatures. If there’s a prize for the most creative ways to break an arm, I’m pretty sure I’d win.

Dealing with an itchy cast was a whole new challenge. Pencils came in handy to reach down and scratch inside the cast, but when the pencil wouldn’t do it, I would grab a ruler or a stick that was long enough to scratch those unreachable spots. It’s amazing what you can invent when necessity calls.

And now for the grand finale: the time my jaw met its match. In an ill-advised moment of bravado, I got into a bar fight just before Christmas. One minute we were arguing, the next minute fists were flying, and then—wham!—someone else’s fist made a rather personal introduction to my jaw. I ended up with my mouth wired shut for weeks, sipping all my meals through a straw. To this day, I can’t stand Ensure drinks, and the sound of a blender still haunts me.

To add to the fun, I had to carry wire cutters with me everywhere. When I asked the doctor why, he casually said, “In case you have to throw up. It’s got to go somewhere!” Thankfully, that never happened, but it made for an interesting holiday season.

So, there you have it: my modest yet hilarious tales of broken bones. They might sound painful, but looking back, they were all part of my adventurous (and slightly clumsy) life.

—Josh Mullins—