March 8th 1972 (3)

“Hardboard fell on foot”

I guess most people remember the times they get injured as a kid.

I am no exception. Unlike (apparently many) other things that I have managed to lose to the sands of time, this particular event is ingrained in my brain, both as a source of agony and embarrassment.

I was in an English lesson at one of my school’s temporary out-buildings. These were modular ‘huts’ (for want of a better word), each hut containing two classrooms separated by a common entrance way and “coat-hanging” foyer. The huts appeared to be in a constant state of repair, workmen always doing something to maintain their integrity, noisily banging in nails and sawing lengths of timber whilst we were in lessons.

This day was no different. Except that on this day a particularly ‘evil’ student took it upon himself to break wind during his lesson. Yes, I somewhat *cough* ‘uncharacteristically’ let rip with my arse trumpet during the reading of some book or other. In the midst of howls of laughter from others, I was duly ‘sent out’ of the room, and told to go and see the headmaster.

Hugely embarrassed by my faux pas, I left the room closing the door behind me. In the foyer there were several large sheets of hardboard blocking the main exit, and in my haste to leave the building I didn’t think about what I was doing as I moved them. The end result was that every single sheet landed en masse on my right foot, scraping down my shin in the process.

So, instead of heading to the headmaster’s office for what would have undoubtedly been ‘the cane’ across my palm, I hobbled to the nurse’s room with ripped trousers and blood pouring from my leg.

This signalled the start of several weeks of discomfort.

All because I farted.

See kids, it can be dangerous!

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