Why Do They Call You That?

As the screen door closed behind my date and me, we heard Dad say “Remember Bumpy, your curfew is 11:00”. I hollered back “Yes Dad”. As we walked down the driveway, John asked me why Dad called me that.

I smiled and said that it was a long story. He said he wanted to hear it so I explained. 

When I was a kid, the neighbor kids and my sister Sandy and I loved to play outdoor games. Often it 

was starting to get dark and our visibility wasn’t what it should have been. On one particular occasion, I was running through the yard to get to the safe place where I couldn’t be tagged and didn’t see our metal clothesline pole. When I came to, I found myself with my arms and legs wrapped around the pole and all of the kids were trying to wake me up.  The next thing I knew my head began to throb and I was moaning.

Mom and Dad were working so my older sister Kathy was babysitting for us. Sandy and the kids took me to the back door so Kathy could see my injuries. She gasped and quickly got Mom on the phone. Mom said for her to put ice on my head and she would be home shortly.

There was a huge goose egg growing on my head. It also showed a lovely color purple. The game was over for the night and I went inside to nurse my injury. When Dad got home he took one look at me and said from now on we were going to have to call me Bumpy. I sort of laughed because looking in the mirror it seemed appropriate.  From that day on, my nickname was Bumpy with both Mom and Dad.

The next event happened when I crawled into a dresser drawer to see how I could have used this for a bed when I was little. No one had explained to me that the drawer came out of the dresser first. (Or as my sister likes to say, they should have called me stupid)  As I climbed in, the dresser fell over on the floor. The fishbowl off the top, went crashing and my head hit the floor like a ripe melon. As I sat up, I could feel the goose egg start to grow on the right side of my forehead. More ice and a reconfirmation of the famous family name “Bumpy”.

The third time Sandy and I were fooling around on the bed playing pirate ship. We hit rough water and I fell off the bed. Once again I hit my head hard on the wood floor and you guessed it, another goose egg grew on the right side of my forehead. The nickname was now confirmed and it stuck for many years.

I’m sure there must have been other times when I had bumps and bruises. These are the three that I can remember. I could do another writing about stitches in my head but that is a tale for another telling. Maybe I should wear a helmet to protect myself. I guess it’s a bit late for that now. It reminds me of that old expression “Too soon we get old. Too late we get smart.”

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