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Road with SnowToday I am sharing a story with you from about when I was 9-10 years old.

In our backyard, there is a huge, short sledding hill. It was just me, and I was sledding on the hill by myself. Instead of the usual gigantic playset, there was a little metal deal at the bottom. It was purple and white, with a purple slide attached to it. I was sledding down and down, and all of a sudden I splatted against the metal slide bars. I flew backwards, and my mother stood at the door (as the rumors go) I don’t remember much long after that, but I do remember this:

I was standing in our kitchen, on the phone talking to my dad. He was asking me all sorts of questions pertaining to myself (now I think back and realize he was trying to concede if I needed to go to the ER). The last bit of our conversation went like this:

Dad- How many fingers am I holding up?

Me- I don’t know because I can’t see you, but I would guess five.

Dad- How did you know?

Me- Lucky guess?

Dad- You don’t have to go to the Emergency room. Go back outside and play.

Me- Okay. I’ll give the phone back to mom.

That’s where the conversation ended, but I do remember that I kept sledding.

I just wanted to share the story because it’s getting to be perfect weather for sledding, if the snow would just stick!

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