Second City the Second

This is my story for next week. The theme I chose was the story of how I got a scar. This was super great news to me because it is my

absolute

all time

favorite

story

Running With Socks

Gather 'round, storytelling enthusiasts, for I have a tale to tell—a tale of ambition, socks, and a headlong dash into the unexpected. Picture this: a frigid Chicago day, the city blanketed in over a foot of snow. Such a day when even the public-school kids got the day off from the daily grind of cutting contact paper and eating paste.

At age five, the concept of 'snow days’ was about as clear as mud. However, my brother Feffy, a seven-year-old, was happy for the day off. Little did he know his joy would soon be darkened by an earth-bound sibling tornado with a sock.

Allow me to set the scene. Our classic Chicago house had two bedrooms upstairs, divided by a landing and a closet. The distance from my room to Feffy's was about 20 feet. To a five-year-old, it seemed bout half the size of a football field.

Having enough of us, our mom bribed us with our favorite, pure white fluffy Wonder bread! We could each have one slice as long as we ate it upstairs. We sang the song as we walked up the stairs; join in if you know it.

At three in the morning when your in bed

The wholesome bread baker is BAKING bread

And that is the reason it tastes SO GOOD

Like wholesome fresh Wonder bread should

While Feffy quickly ate his, I sat on the floor in my room, flattening my bread to make the holy bread they gave out at communion. I was obsessed with making my first communion as Feffy had recently made his --and he got presents!

Feffy, being very smart thought that he could share my bread by pretending I was running a holy bread factory.

"Ah, the holy bread factory. Any free samples?"

"Nope," I replied

"Want to see me fly?"

(Now, there was a change in tactic I didn’t see coming.)

"You can't fly!"

"Yeah, I can. It's a secret. Let me sample your holy bread, and I'll show you the trick."

And so he did—I thought. With a sock in hand, he spun the sock over his head, ran from my room to his, and then lift off! Up onto his bed.

"Did you just ...fly?"

I didn’t wait for an answer.

Filled with joy and inspiration. I rummaged through my sock drawer, getting my prized brown knee-high sock that perfectly matched my school uniform. I’d always knew there was a way! I'd seen helicopters; I knew the principles.

Running as fast as my 5-year-old feet would carry me, all my focus was on the sock whirling overhead, I knew I had to twirl and run fast. I thought about all the places I would fly. I had been living my whole life to prepare for this! I was moments from taking off.

Bam

I met the wooden footboard of Feffy's bed. The world spun, pain, and a gash opened on my forehead. I’m in soooo much trouble for this.

My next memory? Groggy in a hospital bed, overhearing words like "stitches," …"dumb dumb,” and “split her head open." A nurse put a really heavy blanket over me, it has pictures of Indians.

"I’m part Cherokee! "I said as I felt little pricks in my forehead. The doctor said oh Loralyn, you are such a good girl, you are doing so well!

I knew my parents would disagree.