The worst day of my life occurred when I was 4 and a half. Im quite positive I woke up on the wrong side of the bunkbed.
The first half of the memory is sort of vivid…but I remember everything that could go wrong, did. I remember I stubbed my widdle toe that morning and pretty sure I scream/cried like a banshee for a good 45 minutes. After the initial toe stub, I kept hurting myself as the day went on. I felt like demons from the eternal injury section of hell were literally working against me..and I was sure to die by the days end. Im pretty sure that day I burned my tongue on some mac and cheese, later bit my burned tongue, slammed my arm in my play desk, (in which i insisted on an ace bandage to heal me), tripped and scraped my knee, probably got smacked in the face/got my hair ripped out by 2 year old michelle a few times and the spiral just kept going downwards from there.
Since my miserable day kept getting worse, my wonderful mother decided she would take us to the park to cheer me up even though it was bloody hot outside in ghetto old fremont. I was stoooooooked! I put my kicks on and me and all my sisters loaded into the big purple station wagon. She dropped us off at the toe-up from the flo-up community center park as previously mentioned before…(the same community center where I met my first love, Matthew Frankenstein of course), and then went to the convenience store a block away to pick up a ‘surprise’ for me to cheer up my little self.
I sprinted to the jungle gym and was essentially running and playing my bad day right outta my 4 year old system. My sisters knew I was having a miserable day, so they tried to cheer me up as well. They even PLAYED WITH ME! (Sharon probably bribed them). I always begged my older sisters to play board games with me, but the next best thing was when Kristin allowed herself to actually get on the teeter totter with me. (she was 6, I was 4, and obviously not cool enough to be seen teetering with…but she made an exception for this day. i had a speech impediment and huge bangs...i don't blame her.)
Things were going GREAT and all of a sudden, the ominous station wagon pulls back up. Now…please imagine this in slow motion: happy little Nicole, laughing and giggling and teetering and tottering to my hearts desire. Hair flopping in the wind….little size tiny pink shoes bouncing off the ground…
As my mom gets out of the car and holds up the treats she got for us…. My sister Kristin obnoxiously screamed, “………………..POPSICLES!!???!!?!!!!!??!!!!!!??!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and immediately leaped off the teeter-totter.... MID TOTTER….which left me to plummet down towards the ground a good 3 feet and land on my four year old fanny. HARD. Hard enough that I could not get up, even at the sight of popsicles... and quickly started wail/sobbing once more, probably from getting the wind knocked out of me/being shocked my sister would do such a thing, im sure also rolling around in the dirt/sand underneath the teeter totter waiting for my inevitable death.
Aaaaaaaaaand I blocked the rest of the day out of my memory. The end.