OK you look, and think Oh lawnmower. Right?......Wrong!!! It can be an evil, limb severing, death trap machine!!!! Flinging severed body parts into the yard. Massive bleeding, and yes including death.
How or better yet - do I think this? Because I was there.......
Somewhere in the 70's I was the cutest redhead with pigtails "drama queen" only child sitting in my Micky Mouse dream room. (wall paper - Disney, blue carpet, Disney sheets...you get the theme) recording my own voice into my little tan Fischer Price tape recorder. I was creating my "own" book on tape. Remember the tapes with cassettes that "ding" and you turned the page? Yea, well I needed mine to be better, more than a damn "ding" so being the smart (ass) kid I was, I was re-reading the books recording my voice and instead of a ding, I would tap this antique brass telephone bell for a "riiing".
OK back to mutilated body parts. I hear a SLAM! (the back door) and my father screaming my mother's name "Sybil!!!!"(Name changed, but fitting as well) Was mom was drunk? Passed out? No!! She was in the shower. The one sober time that week maybe one time that year!!! I had to intervene, something terrible has happened. THE RECORDER STILL TAPING.......I run from dreamland in a Yellow over sized shirt. (yes I remember, because I had to stay at the neighbors and was embarrassed) I see through the foyer a blood soaked leather glove, and blood spattered crime scene, off into the kitchen. My dad is still screaming for my mother. I blasted ass through their room (Red Carpet with Velvet drapes -Pimpin) and burst through the accordion door into the bath. Mama! Daddy's CUT HIS HAND OFF!!!!!!!! I then run and lock myself in my bathroom. You can hear on the tape me muttering "whhaats happening!!!" I aged 10 years in a very short time that morning.
Well come to find out no hand was cut off. Leather gloves left outside retain a hand like shape. The blood was everywhere. My father at this point did not know he had amputated his big and second toe. (they were found later in the yard-really who bags?)
So he has emergency surgery....yada yada, and the Tape surfaces. It was the limelight of my existence as a child. Playing that damn thing over and over and over. looking back we do laugh at it. Goes to show how miserable our lives were, to find that it was so amusing and "fun" to listen to traumatic amputation aftermath, grumbled jargon hollering pain, and many F-Bombs.
So how did this happen?.....The dog at the shelter I HAD to have named Cookie (rot in hell dog), had a dog house built by my father. The dog promptly dug a hole under the fence and was long gone never to return, but had a dog house. As my dad was mowing.....he backed up, tripped backwards over the doghouse pulling the mower over his foot. The surgeon who operated on him, ended up being the surgeon I worked with in the co-op health job during high school. Small world. Be careful of mowers, and thank God we don't sling around tape recorders anymore. Can you imagine what we would listen to now?.......
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