Little Dude and mistakes.

One day, date unknown, in his 2nd, possibly 3rd-his memory is a little fuzzy-year of primary school, little Dude was hanging around a room with other students. If memory serves right, it was the nurses’ office. The children were socializing whilst little Dude was by himself. He was fiddling with stuff around the room. He moved from item to item quickly, ’till he reached a stapler. Curious little thing: metal, black, used to staple things with sharp metal pieces, flat with two 90 degrees turns on either end, bent together when stapled to hold two items, typically paper, together.

Little Dude was fiddling with this device and decided to put his finger to the far back, so it was near the rear of the stapler. He pushed down, and it may have happened too fast, or his memory is that of a goldfish, but his finger somehow slid to the staple point as it closed, and he stapled his finger. It hurt. He was probably crying, as a small child would do when the teacher came over. She found him, gripping his finger with small traces of blood, from the freshly pierced finger.

The next while is unknown, due to memories being shafted to make space, and the tears and pain fogging everything else. He was shipped to the hospital by his father. Little Dude arrived, still crying, and got submitted quickly to the ER. Hanging out in the bed waiting, Dude was communicating with his father to distract himself.

The doctor soon came back, with a plan to numb the pain of the afflicted area, the finger in which the staple was sticking out of, and slowly remove the staple. Little Dude may also have been temporarily sedated, but this was many years ago, cut him some slack. The staple was carefully removed, and his finger was returned to normal. Little Dude was soon released, and on the car ride home, he thought about what happened, but not for long, he was a kid, he quickly learned not to fool with things that quickly eject sharp metal points, which he still knows to this day.

Another story of Dude’s younger days: It was around the same time period, same school. Little Dude was in aftercare…or whatever it was called. He was waiting for his parents to pick him up and was hanging out with other children in the cafeteria/ gymnasium of Sabattus Primary School. He was off by himself, as he normally was when Little Dude wandered to the halls. Out in the halls, resting upon the wall, was a small red box, tiny thing, not much bigger than an adult’s palm, ‘bout head height of Little Dude, in big white words, upon the little red box was the words “Pull Me.” Little Dude saw these, and pulled. Suddenly, a loud blaring sound was played across the whole school. Little fool pulled the gosh darn fire alarms because it said “PULL ME” in big white words. Everyone in the aftercare evacuated the building, to the small playground, while the fire department came.

Little Dude was chewed out by the fire department and his parents, though, when we were taught fire safety as wee children, they never really went over fire alarms, to allay children from being curious and pulling them. Little Dude learned a valuable lesson today, “Don’t pull something that says ‘Pull Me!”. He learned that he should probably talk to his elders before doing something like that again.

“File:Mircom Fire Alarm HornStrobe (crop).jpg” by Ben Schumin is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0