I was in preschool so my brother, Jarad, was about 2. Footloose was the hit movie. We had seen it a time or two and loved it. Of course we didn't really "get" it, but it was fun to watch them dance. One of Jarad's favorite parts was when Kevin Bacon was throwing a fit in an abandoned warehouse. He's mad about something so he does what any normal teenager in the early 1980's would do...he dances around and throws bottles while doing his high bar routine. You know...the usual. Jarad was so inspired by this scene that he decided to reenact part of it in our long driveway. He found some empty bottles and went to town. After breaking several, he realized that mom and dad may not be so happy about all of the glass in the driveway, so he swept it all into the grass.
Fast forward to later that day. We had set out with our Big Wheels so we could cruise down our long driveway that was PERFECT for picking up just the right amount of speed. We would get about 3/4 of the way down and turn into the grass sliding our feet to stop. I was making my first pass and I was FLYING! I got to the "turnoff" and headed left. And then it happened. I put my BARE feet in the grass to slide to a stop. I felt something sharp graze my cute little baby toe. As I rolled to a stop I saw A LOT of blood and my sweet little baby toe hanging on for dear life.
Of course, Jarad panicked and ran...away. NOT to the house to get mom and inform her that I may or may not be bleeding to death. NOT to get me a band-aid or a tourniquet. Nope, he ran and hid. Left me there to fend for myself. I crawled up the driveway leaving a trail of blood in my wake. Is it strange that I remember very distinctly (at the age of 4) which towel my mom wrapped my foot in??? It was one that had been hand embroidered with a potato on it and possibly the day of the week. I don't remember which day, but that's neither here nor there. I remember the car ride to the hospital and making some lame joke about how I wish it would have been the stupid dog across the street that had been hurt instead of my sweet little baby toe. (That dog had it comin' I promise. He ate my Slip N Slide...jerk.) I remember getting a shot in my sweet little baby toe and I remember what the stitches looked like. What I don't remember is what ever happened to my brother! I truly do not remember him being there. Maybe we just left HIM home alone to fend for HIMSELF...but I doubt it. My mom was good like that.
Still to this day, my sweet little baby toe tingles when I hear that song. I once told my sad story to my friend Kari at the bank. We decided that maybe "Toeloose" would be a more appropriate title.
