Wrists: Have you ever broken a bone?

The only bones I’ve ever broken are those in two of my fingers. Despite enjoying a number outdoor activities, and facing plenty of opportunities to obtain injuries under more respectable circumstances, the single time I’ve broken bones was in a hilarious incident that’s too good not to share. Sit tight, everyone. It’s story time.

Some longtime friends of my siblings and me have a summer home that they were often allowed to bring friends to during the break from school. One week, my friend’s cousin, Henry, was celebrating his birthday, so my friend secretly invited a number of us up without telling him, and we’d planned to surprise him when he arrived.

So my friend was standing guard out front watching for Henry’s car, while we all waited on the terrace, most of us sitting on its wide stone ledge, which dropped steeply off down a hill. When my friend saw Henry’s car coming down the road, he came sprinting through the back door to tell us to hide, but in his hurry, missed the last step onto the terrace, resulting in a spectacular fall straight onto his face. The sight was so comical that several of us burst into laughter, and I laughed so hard that I ended up falling backward off the ledge and rolling down the hill below.

So when Henry arrived, he was greeted by the sight of fifteen people that he hadn’t expected running about in a panic, one of my brothers hauling a crying me up the hill, and my friend, who’d struck the edge of a table in his fall, trying to reassure everyone that all would be well, while blood gushed from a gash on his head. My friend and I were quickly whisked off to the hospital; they initially thought I’d broken my wrist, but it turned out just to be a bad sprain, and two broken fingers. My friend received a few stitches, and they sent us on our way.

The best part of this story is that, when my friend and I returned from the emergency room, we discovered that everyone else had remained fiercely dedicated to the prank, and had all decided to explain absolutely nothing about the situation to Henry, and instead pretended to forget his birthday, and vaguely ignored him all afternoon. Henry tried so hard to be a good sport about it, but by evening, he was visibly irritated, and stormed off alone to go canoeing. While he was gone, we regrouped, decorated the terrace, and tried surprising Henry again- successfully this time. He was thrilled, and nearly died laughing when we told him the whole story surrounding the events of the afternoon.

And that, friends, is the illustrious tale of the time that I broke my fingers and nearly ruined the surprise party of one friend, all because I laughed too hard at the misfortune of my other friend.