You heard it here first!
So there I was, alone at our new house on Myrtle Ave; the big blue one that you can see even from the main road as you drive past. Heba was at the grocery store and I had decided to take up the task of cleaning out our gutters.
As a mini side note, we had received 36 hours straight of rain the whole day prior to this and the forecast was calling for more of the same all week. All of our gutters were clogged and not working and this was an afternoon break in the rain. Ok, back to the fun!
Actually, this whole gutter story is mostly the backdrop to the grander and more dramatic broken arm story. I finished cleaning the front of the house and started toward the back. It was then that I faced one of those tests that every young male must endure…
I found myself standing there in front of the fence that separates the front of our house from the back. The mature thought of carrying the ladder around the house went through my head but was quickly squashed by ideas of how to get the project done faster. It was another Tim-the-Tool-Man moment. I threw the ladder over the fence.
It was then that a last moment ‘mature thought’ might have actually done me more harm than good. I pondered the fact that I am now 26 and that really it might be better to climb the fence than to jump it. Looking back I realize that when traversing old things such as these it is best to get over them as quickly as possible rather than take the slow route. Jumping might have been better.
So I climbed the fence. When I got to the top, I looked down just in time to see it collapse under me. Down I went and the rest you could say is broken arm history…
Part 2, What to do with no car, no phone and a broken arm
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