I have come realize why there are no adult ripsticks or razor scooters. Even though I hate to admit it, I am no longer a teenager. God has a funny way of reminding you of this.
Deo's 13 year old brother, Michael, was in over the weekend with Deo's parents. Saturday night was spend innocently enough at Sam's Club perusing the warehouse for things we didn't need. For Michael, this was some type of mixture between the above units. Early Sunday morning, I was up early with the baby and saw the scooter lying by the table tempting me. Through the dusk lit house, I quietly flipped on my flops and headed out for the street for some joyriding. I made it two times up and down the street before I started getting cocky. As I road past the house for the third time, now drawing an audience of my in-laws and husband, I scooted faster....faster.....faster....and.....CRASH! From what I remember, I was headed for a parked truck on the side of the road, tried to turn too sharply, and...yes...fumbled majorly. My right leg is road rashed all way from my knee to my big toe...which unfortunately bore the brunt of the accident. It's pretty gruesome so I will spear you any pictures. Let's just say I'm lucky to still have my toenail! It's funny how in one day I went from a carefree teenager to a limping senior citizen. Such is life.
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