Two Toes

This weekend, I was reminded of an incident from our childhood.  Lyn and I had been alone for the afternoon.  We had one argument after another.  We couldn't really go into our own rooms to cool off because we shared a bedroom.  Apparently, neither of us felt we could go into other parts of the house or leave each other alone.

At one point, Lyn got so mad that she came at me physically.  I was sitting on the floor with my back up against the wall.  Her hands were out and she intended to hurt me.  So, I braced, brought my feet up, caught her in the stomach and pushed.  She fell backwards and landed against our dresser.  That only made her madder.  The second time she came at me, she realized I hadn't moved and could kick her back again.  She decided to kick me.  She kicked me for all she was worth.  All her rage was in that kick.  Her bare foot made solid impact with my shin.  It hurt me but she went down.

I knew Lyn was hurt and called Mom to fess up to our fight.  Mom had me get Lyn to the couch and put ice on her foot saying that she would look at Lyn's foot when she got home.  Mom was MAD.  We had promised to get along and clearly we didn't heed our promises.

When Mom got home, she realized that Lyn's foot was in worse shape than expected and off we went to the ER.  Lyn had broken two toes.  They were swollen and purple.  There wasn't much the doctor could do other than tape the toes together, tell her to rest and to not kick her sister.

Lyn had the worst of the argument.  Her toes were broken and she had to let them heal, foot up for days on end.  I didn't get off light either.  I ended up having to tend to her while she recuperated.  We had many more arguments after that one over the years.  That was the last that got physical as far as I remember.

I asked Lyn if she remembered that incident.  She still remembers.  When I asked, she threw up her hands and said "I learned!  I learned!"


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