Something I read the other day prompted me to think about the scrapes children can get in to and the injuries they can sustain, because children are children and they do daft things.

One wonders sometimes how any of us make it to adulthood.

I thought it might be fun to think about childhood scrapes – and hope that some of my lovely readers might share some of theirs.

I briefly mentioned one of my scrapes in a message on another blog recently.

I was very young – 5 or so – and asked my mum if I could go to call on my friend who lived just a couple of doors away .   Mum said yes – this was the 70s, five year old children were allowed to go to a house a couple of doors away with no-one having a nervous breakdown.

In the street some workmen had lifted the cover off a big manhole, there were no workmen around, I am not sure if there was anything warning potential passers-by of the danger of  falling in to a large hole.   I must have peered in and fell in, knocking myself out cold.

A while later mum popped to my friends house to get me and they said I hadn’t been there.   Panic ensued, all the neighbours out, all nearby streets being searched for missing child, police called.   Workmen, returning from wherever they had been were asked to join in the search and thought they better put the cover back on the manhole in case anyone fell in it – that is when I was found.   Some hours had passed.

I remember none of this  but it was a story my parents dined out on!   It was the 70s!

I was once blamed for my brother breaking his leg.   We were on the top of the slide in our garden, we had towels around our shoulders as we were playing superheroes – and all good superheroes need a cape, don’t they?  I suggested we jump from the top of the slide – because all true superheroes regularly jump from the tops of slides!   I jumped and landed on the grass, all was good.   My brother jumped off the other side of the slide, landed on the concrete path and broke his leg.   My fault or his stupidity – whenever we get together the jury remains out on that one!

One more (again concerning my brother but still not my fault).  We were in the garden, I was reading he was playing with the large garden shears (he shouldn’t have been, my mum hadn’t given them to him as a toy) but they were (for the purposes of his game) a samurai sword.   He tripped, he fell, was more or less harpooned, there was a lot of blood.

And a lot of screaming – mostly from me as I ran in to the house screaming ‘*****’s dead, *****’s dead’.  My mum (in the kitchen doing something) ran towards me and I screamed some more about him being dead.   Dead(!) brother had dragged himself across the garden and was saying ‘I’m not dead, I’m not dead’, at which point I turned back to my mother and screamed ‘he is, he is’.   He wasn’t, he isn’t, but it was quite an injury and took some time (in hospital and recovering at home) to get over.   It has ever since been suggested by him that I am a bit rubbish in a crisis – I can’t think why!

So,  anyone else want to share tales of how/why it is a miracle that they are still here today?

Until tomorrow…




8 thoughts on “Scrapes

  1. I hear what you are saying…
    My first day of school I got off the bus and ran over the main road without looking, and nearly ended up under a car.
    I about eight and was jumping around and playing with a broomstick. It slipped and the end hit me on the roof of my mouth. I ran inside, screaming and with blood pouring out of my mouth. The doctor said half an inch further back and it would have hit the soft palate and I could have killed myself.
    Playing (fighting) with my brother, ran inside the house with him following me and slammed the front door behind me. It had glass panes and he couldn’t stop in time and put his head through one of them. He nearly cut his throat. Luckily he turned his head to the side as he went through.
    This is not counting falling out of trees and off horses.


  2. blimey, no, nothing as dramatic as that! Violet had a stupid scrape recently. She got stuck in the bed. Really stuck. I was upstairs, she was in her room, she shouted ‘mum come up here’ (she thought I was downstairs), went in, and she’s at some ridiculous angle at the bottom of her bed. ‘I’m stuck’ she says. I’m looking at her thinking well just move then, but no, her leg was wedged between the foot of the bed and in a slat underneath. Took a while to work it out. I tried to yank her leg out, but she screamed so much I thought it was broken. Eventually I moved the mattress and we were able to free her leg. By this time it was very red, a smidge swollen, and bruises starting to form already. The stupidest thing. Now when she’s in her room I have to remind her ‘don’t get stuck in your bed’ which she finds totally embarrassing, but hey, SHE’S the one who got stuck!!

    One of her friends is a bit clumsy, so when Violet put on her roller boots on Sunday I made her get them off quick smart before this particular friend saw and wanted to wear them. Not a chance. So glad I whisked them away so quickly despite Violet moaning at me. On Monday night the same girl was out on her scooter and went flying off. Tuesday a.m at school she was showing her knee that had been skinned, her mum told me she’d been covered in blood and they were lucky it was just the knee damage. the kids have swimming on Tues. the girl went but complained her arm and wrist hurt. The mum was called, took her to be checked out, and she had a broken thumb/wrist! Now she’s in plaster! You are so right, it’s amazing some of us reach adulthood, being a kid is dangerous!

    a great post. thanks for sharing. xx


    1. Poor Violet – that is one to remember and bring up every now and then – especially when she is older and bringing boyfriends home (I know, I know, you don’t want to think about that yet but it will happen! x). Poor Violet’s friend to – at least young bones do mend fairly swiftly but, ouch! I think a lot of children can be clumsy, it’s as if every time they have a growth spurt their limbs are longer and they have to get used to them all over again.


  3. Mine’s rather tame compared to all the above. I fell off my fairy cycle whilst zooming down a steep hill and ended up with a great big egg sized lump in the middle of my forehead.


  4. Fortunately I haven’t ever had any such incidents – I was a mix of terribly shy and slightly goody two shoes – but my brother had plenty with lots of blood, broken bones and other incidents a plenty! Perhaps I just didn’t have any incidents because seeing his scared me off! Glad you and your brother are safe after all that happened to you!


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