Cutting the Grass

Probably the summer before the summer we moved from Inman to Iva I cut my leg. Actually my sister cut my leg. My sister and I were supposed to cut the grass.

We had been cutting it at this house for the last three years so I started cutting grass when I was about nine years old. It was my job to cut the back yard and the smaller of the two side yards and my sister’s job to mow the front yard and the larger of the two side yards.
My sister had to be in control of everything. She had decided that I would mow all of my part first.

The normal routine was that I would mow one of my sections then while I rested she would mow one of her sections. Well, I mowed one of mine and then stopped to rest. While I rested I rode my brother’s bike. It just happened to be there. Anyway, I was riding on it when my sister decided she did not want to do her part at that time. So, she told me to do my other part. I would not so she grabbed me and pulled me off of the bike.

There was a jagged edge on the fender and it cut me long and deep. The cut was right in the fold of the knee so when I tried to walk it pulled the skin open further.

My mother loaded me in the car and went in search for a doctor on Wednesday afternoon. Back then almost all doctor’s offices were closed on Wednesday after noon. We went to Doctors’ Memorial Hospital but they did not have an emergency room.

The hospital called a local surgeon and found one who was in his office. The doctors were Hanna, Hull, and Green. My doctor was doctor Green. I received eight stitches and a tetanus shot.

Meanwhile, back at the house, my sister has all of a sudden become the perfect sister to my little brother. She read him stories in the back yard and when my father got home she told him all about how I cut my leg. She of course left out the part where she assisted me.

A few weeks later it was time to have the stitches removed. Two days later I split back open. My mother would not take me back to the doctor so now I have a pretty ugly scar.