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Our neighbors have a really really steep driveway, and it's never liked our family. When I was little I flew off of it on a sled and jumped the curb and got wedged under a tree. Long story short, it wasn't very fun. Well the driveway has claimed another victim, my brother.


Now you all hear alot from me complaining about William, but still, he's my brother. He was running down said steep driveway in sandals and lost his balance and went splat on the road. He got scraped up pretty bad, and I know you're thinking "He was stupid to be running in sandals in the first place" and I agree, he was, but keep in mind that he's, for lack of a better term, retarded.


He's got a couple stitches in his head and his elbow and knee are pretty banged up. I got the job of holding the towel on his knee to keep it from bleeding, while Mom drove us to Dad's office.


So we get to Dad's office and William is bawling, and we're all crammed in a very small examination room, so Dad tells me to excuse myself, so I do. A few minutes later Mom excuses herself because they have to give William a shot in his head to numb the spot where the banged up so Dad can stitch him up. Well I start getting light-headed and the room started spinning so I sat down.


I think that's the closest I've ever come to fainting, and being in a doctors office, people notice when you're pale, because apparently I was, so I got asked if I was okay, which I was after I sat down.


It's only 3:00 in the afternoon, and the day's already eventful.


William's okay. I'm okay. We're all good.