Hamburger Face

Holly from Oklahoma submits this tasty bike accident story.

When I was in the fourth grade I went head over handlebars on my bike while taking a pretty fast turn around a corner on a wet street. After being forced into going to the minor emergency by my parents I was told that I would need stitches in my chin.

The doctor who was given the horrible task of taking a needle to my face was trying to lighten the mood to make me stop shaking by making lame jokes. However, as my mother will openly admit, I never was a funny child. His first response to seeing my chin after my hand was pried away from my face was that it looked like hamburger. It took me years (I'm talking eight or nine) to realize that he meant ground beef, and not the hamburger with cheese and lettuce and tomato like my mental image was at the time.

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