Age 5. The actual brick wall of my school, while playing the game “witchy witchy”. I receive a head injury but the school’s first aider, my Dad, judges his child to essentially be fine following this lunchtime incident as there is not much bleeding. A family trip to the hospital ensues that evening upon my Mum’s instistence. The doctors roll me up in a blanket and pour hydrogen peroxide into the wound on my forehead to bubble out all of the little bits of brick that got stuck in there.
Age 11. The just-out-of the microwave tinned tomato soup, which hit the dining room’s cream painted woodchip wallpaper leaving a very slight stain for years to come despite my Mum’s best efforts.
Age 12. The stage at my junior woodwind band’s Christmas concert. Teachers concernedly rush to ask if my clarinet is ok. Both me and it are ok, and people are very kind to me after the concert.
Age 15+. Tea and coffee, on carpets and floors everywhere. (Beige is the only acceptable flooring colour.)
Age 18+. Pints of beer, and wonky pub tables upon which those pints of beer precariously rest within my prescence.
Age 19. My bike, three times within the first term I start riding it around Oxford. I start to always wear gloves when riding.
Age 26. The badly chosen walk down the surprisingly steep actual ski slope overlooking Lake Bohinj while holidaying in Slovenia. My friend notes on this hellish trip that I routinely trip over my own feet on flat pavements. I concur.
Age 30. The barbell set-up for deadlifting, and pretty much everything else at shin height in the gym. Shin bruises just become a thing, despite my best efforts at good technique.
Age 31. The (glass!) light fittings that dangle from the ceiling in the hallway and bathroom of my boyfriend’s flat.
Also age 31. My boyfriend :'( It’s ok. We talk about this a lot and have strategies for how to deal with road crossing, spiky bushes over hanging the pavement, and bodies of water close to where we’re walking. (I walk on the side of the water.)
Age 33. Tea and coffee on the carpet and floor of my boyfriend’s flat.