Love Hurts

Freddy Kruger was the bad guy in the Nightmare On Elm Street movies. Oh boy was he bad. He killed kids in their sleep.

Freddy had a glove on one hand. Out of the glove came these long blades that he used to mangle the teenagers to death. My children loved those movies.

My oldest son worked in a machine shop. He took pieces of scrap metal and fashioned them into blades like those of Freddy Kruger. He fastened them to a work glove. The main purpose was to terrify the smaller children in the family.

One weekend there were several of the smaller children at my house. My daughter was not working that day. She decided to don the glove and wave it around. As she was waving her gloved hand wildly she accidentally brushed the sharp blades against her thigh.

My daughter did not need stitches in her leg but she did bleed a bit and was in pain for a couple of days. She still has scars from Freddy Kruger.

It was common for young boys to own BB guns when I was a child. My brothers must have been about 7 and 8 when they each received a BB gun from Santa for Christmas. They had to wait for warmer weather before they could take them out and shoot them.

The boys had been warned not to kill any animals especially the chickens or any other animals we were raising. Those animals were food and money making livestock.

One day in the summer Mom sent me out to check on the kids who were outside playing. I was shocked to find that the boys had stood my sister against the corrugated metal fence and were being a firing squad putting a prisoner to death.

My sister was wearing one of those little sunsuits that were so popular for little girls during the fifties. That meant there was a lot of exposed skin. I ran and grabbed her and took her into the house so Mom could take care of her.

Mom spent a major portion of the afternoon picking BB's out of my sister's back. The boys lost their BB guns.

I was working in the cash office. It was before Christmas so we were extremely busy and there were three of us working in there.

I have no idea who started shooting rubber bands. I wanted no part of it. It hurts to be hit by those things and I did not want to hurt or be hurt. So I was left alone thank goodness.

The shooting went on for several weeks. If the night store manager came in they would shoot him and he would shoot back. Even security personnel who would come in took part. I stayed out of it.

Then came the night when the night manager came into the office. I think he had a bit of a crush on one of the women working in there. He took a rubber band and shot it at her just as she turned to face him.

The rubber band hit her in the eye. She had no idea it was coming and her eye was open when it was hit.

The manager was devastated by what happened. The woman that was hit was in a lot of pain but thankfully not seriously injured. The best thing to come of that was that was the last rubber band that was used as a weapon.

My husband no longer lived at home. He would come over periodically when he and his new companion were arguing and he would decide that we should get back together. It was not going to happen. But the children loved seeing their father.

Once when he was leaving after an attempt to come home my daughter was on her roller skates. She decided to race his car to the corner of the block. He had no idea she was doing it.

Just as she reached the corner on the sidewalk she hit a rock and fell. She landed on her chin and split it open. It took three stitches to close.

My best friend and I were visiting her married sister's house. Her sister was at work and we often went there to hang out after school where no one could bother us.

My friend was going through her sister's closet and came out wearing a nice silk blouse. She felt very grown up I am sure. She decided we would walk through town so people could see her in the height of fashion. It was a tiny town so we would be back in plenty of time for her to change and her sister would never know the difference.

For some reason we ended taking a bicycle. First I rode the handlebars while she pedaled the bike. Then she decided she would be noticed more if she was on the handlebars. So I pedaled.

As we needed a bit more speed for some reason, I stood up to pedal. As I stood I bumped against my friend who promptly fell off the handlebars.

I could not stop quickly enough and pretty much just ran over her. Her sister's blouse was shredded..

Needless to say her sister was not happy with either of us. We were no longer allowed to hang out at her house when no one else was there.

We were living in a small town in Tennessee. My husband was a truck driver and we only saw him on weekends. So I was alone with my four children.

We had a lot of fun. We would go to the state park often. The children could wade in a shallow part of the river. Actually it was more like a brook there. We would cook out there too. And we went other places just to keep active.

The vehicle we traveled in was an old pickup truck. I had a routine to get the kids in the truck. The two older boys went first. My oldest son sat by the door and my second son sat in the middle. Then my second son held my third son on his lap and my oldest son held my daughter on his lap. I guess I should mention that the two little ones were babies.

That old truck had seen better days. There were little tricks I had to use to start it sometimes. The doors did not always close properly.

So I was turning the corner to go to our house. Suddenly my daughter came flying into my sons in the middle as the door flew open and my oldest son fell out. He had tossed his sister to try to keep her safe as he was falling.

My son landed on his face as was up and running by the time I got the truck stopped. Luckily he had scraped his face just under his nose but there were no other injuries. He insisted on wearing a band-aid under his nose for several days until it healed.

My children were a little older. We still had the old pickup. For some reason my second son was sitting next to the door that day. My daughter was on his lap. She was about 2 or 3 then. He slammed the door shut.

My daughter screamed. I saw that her hand was shut in the door. I very calmly looked at my son who had a confused look on his face. I quietly said, "Open the door." He looked at me for several seconds before it dawned on him that her hand was in the door.

I did take her in to have her hand x-rayed. No broken bones.

My sister is 4 years younger than I am. She had not yet learned how to swing herself so I was pushing her so she could swing.

I would give her a couple of pushes and then wait while she happily went back and forth. Then I would push her again.

My sister decided she wanted to go higher. Higher. Higher. I did know enough to push the chains instead of my sister's back. I pushed and pushed until she was going very high. She wanted higher.

I gave a mighty push. My sister flew from the swing and landed on the ground. She had the breath knocked out of her but was otherwise not hurt. Shortly after she learned to make herself go.

No matter how careful we are sometimes people we care about are hurt. Sometimes we are the cause.