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Good clean humor and jokes
- Thread starter Symetry
- Start date
I'm kinda detracting from this thread here but now that you mentioned stepping on nails... and it is good clean humor.
When I was about 7 years old I was rummaging through an old fallen barn like dumb kids do. I stepped on a nail, it stuck me pretty good. I jumped back on the other foot with the shingle still attached to the first foot only to step on another nail with a much larger 2X4 attached. I looked down and saw the nail coming through the top of my shoe and of course started bawling. Two feet, two nails.
My friend didn't know what to do, was scared cause I was crying and didn't know hot to help me get the nails out of my feet. I was blubbering at him, screaming to "just do it." I limped home, walking a block on the sides of my feet with one foot bleeding pretty good leaving shoe prints on the road.
Back then you just ran your kids to the emergency room and my parents did just that. Of course my Dad was letting me know all the while that I really was a dumb kid and shouldn't have been there in the first place.
To this day I remember not wanting to get that Tetanus shot. Couldn't imagine in my mind how poking me yet one more time was going to make me feel better. We'd change the bandages each day and dress the wound with mercurochrome.
The KEDS (run faster, jump higher) sneakers of course were new shoes but washed up just fine albeit with holes in them. Man, those were the days. Thanks for the memories.
When I was about 7 years old I was rummaging through an old fallen barn like dumb kids do. I stepped on a nail, it stuck me pretty good. I jumped back on the other foot with the shingle still attached to the first foot only to step on another nail with a much larger 2X4 attached. I looked down and saw the nail coming through the top of my shoe and of course started bawling. Two feet, two nails.
My friend didn't know what to do, was scared cause I was crying and didn't know hot to help me get the nails out of my feet. I was blubbering at him, screaming to "just do it." I limped home, walking a block on the sides of my feet with one foot bleeding pretty good leaving shoe prints on the road.
Back then you just ran your kids to the emergency room and my parents did just that. Of course my Dad was letting me know all the while that I really was a dumb kid and shouldn't have been there in the first place.
To this day I remember not wanting to get that Tetanus shot. Couldn't imagine in my mind how poking me yet one more time was going to make me feel better. We'd change the bandages each day and dress the wound with mercurochrome.
The KEDS (run faster, jump higher) sneakers of course were new shoes but washed up just fine albeit with holes in them. Man, those were the days. Thanks for the memories.
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