Donovan vs. The Chair

Donovan here. Maybe you thought I learned my lesson when I took on the driveway last year. Well, my friend, you would be wrong.

This time, I decided to get in a fight with a chair. And my weapon of choice? My face, of course. Needless to say, I lost.

Look closely at this picture:



The sharp-eyed among you might notice the flowery band-aid on my forehead, underneath my irrepressible curls. No big deal, you might say. But look again at my right shoulder... That's right, it's blood. My blood.

Here's the story: It's about 8:30 in the morning. I'm looking forward to a big day of running and jumping circles around my main man, Grant. To get things started, I'm getting warmed up with some "big air" jumping exercises. After a few leaps, I got a little off balance and fell forward, slamming my forehead against a wooden chair in the playroom. Next thing I know, there's blood everywhere, Monique and Mom are scrambling around, and Jackson's running for paper towels to clean up the widening pool of blood. Did I mention it was my blood?

I vaguely recall phrases like "9-1-1" and "ER" getting thrown around. Dad shows up after a frantic phone call from Mom and I'm whisked off to the Doctor's office, where I get some sticky stuff slapped to my head and a lollipop. Then I came home and took a four-hour nap.

So, my record now is 0-2 against hard, inanimate objects.

Tomorrow, I'm taking on the couch.