Oh PJ…

Where to even start with that kid…

Should I start with the time I got half my face torn off? OR Should I start with the time he got half of his face melted off?  (Stand by coin flip) And I go first…

The Bike Ride

So I had to have been about 5 or 6 when the bike ride happened. My brother LOVED to ride his bike. He was always coming up with awesome ideas of how to make his bike go faster (or so he thought) or look better or attach things to it… LIKE MY RED WAGON!!!

So as I stated before my brother was my hero at this time and I wanted to always please him so of course I did what he said whenever he said it. So on this particular day, he decided to attach my red wagon (remember back in the day when they were about an inch tall all the way around? Just enough room for you to barely hold on to something?).

We started at the end of the street on the sidewalk, that I might add was not level at all, and he took off. All that was attached between me and him was a piece of fiber that was called a rope… Today I call it a death wish.

So we are zooming along and we barely make past our house and BAM! We hit a crack in the sidewalk. The wagon flips and I go sliding. Not in the grass, NO NO, that would be so much better. But rather I slide a good 2 feet across the cement sidewalk. PJ keeps riding for a bit because at this point he doesn’t realize that I have been thrown from my wagon.  I was in shock I guess because I didn’t even cry. I literally laid there for at least 2 minutes before I sat up.  That’s when I saw the blood and started screaming.

PJ had turned around at that point and my mom had come running out of the house. My whole left side was scrapped up and sore, obviously.

I will have to say though, PJ was a sweetheart through all of it. We all went into the house, and my mom got me all cleaned up. I remember laying on the couch up against PJ. And he actually welcomed it.

Freddy Krueger? Or PJ

I will be honest, I only remember what PJ looked like. I don’t really recall the situation.  My parents have told me the story over and over. So these are their words, but I saw the proof and remember the fire trucks and ambulance.

So PJ loved to build model rockets.  He would put an Army man with the parachute in the end of the rocket and add a missile of some sort so it would go off into the sky and the Army man would parachute down.

Well this one particular time, this rocket didn’t have an Army man. So he decided along with his friend to just add a firecracker. So when they lit the firecracker they liked it so much they kept on doing it more. Then they decided let’s make it just burn.  Well they didn’t think that it was burning enough so they decided to add gasoline.

When PJ went to dump some of the gasoline on the fire, it splashed back into his face along with creating a trail of the fire to the side of his face.

I know what you are thinking, WHERE ARE THE PARENTS!!!!

PJ was 14 at the time, and he never gave my parents any reason to not trust his judgement. People make bad judgement calls all the time. And this was definitely a HORRIBLE call. My dad was at work and my mom was inside with me.

PJs friend evidently called for help which prompted my mom to call 911. PJ stopped, dropped, and rolled luckily.

Literally within less than 5 minutes emergency vehicles were there.  My dad found out about it without my mom even calling him (remember small town) and he was home in just a few short minutes as well.

Needless to say, we have 2 remaining rockets to this day that were never launched. Oh and he healed just fine.

See us small town folk know how to entertain ourselves… it’s not just cow tipping. LOL




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