My family has a fence around our house. The fence is to keep out the pigs. Somehow pigs always find a way to get inside, despite how many time you reinforce the fence with different types of wired fencing. The gate opens up to allow cars inside, but the door that once used to swing so easily, now is one heavy piece of wood. It is big enough for a large vehicle to pass with ease.
On days where I ride my bike, I struggle with opening the gate a crack to allow my bike to squeeze through. However, when the gate is closed, I do not want to struggle with the rope tying the gate to the fence, so I do the only sensible thing; I hop the fence.
The fence is about waist high and I usually climb on the boulder next to the fence to give me an extra few inches of help. Some days my shorts get stuck on the wiring of the fence, other times I worry about wearing a skirt, but it never stops me from jumping over the fence.
This morning, I think I must have still been half asleep. I stood on the rock and lifted my legs and hopped over. It was like any ordinary day, but this time I neglected to see where one of the wooden posts were.
I felt a burning sensation on my cheek, but figured it was nothing from a slight incident with a piece of a stick. As I walked down our road my students began stopping me to ask me what happened. I asked what they were talking about, and they asked about me my mouth. I was completely confused as my mouth is in perfect condition. Finally I realized what they were talking about my cheek. Stupidly, I asked what was wrong, and the color of my cheeks. They replied nervously, about it being all red.
All day long people around the school kept asking me what happened, I had yet to see my face, and was confused about all of the commotion. When I told them what I did, they were all surprised that I didn’t open the gate myself. (This shows they think of me as being different than themselves, because no one usually opens gates, they usually hop over them. Something I have learned not to mind doing….although I prefer to only hop the fence near the gate, and not elsewhere unlike my sister and others.)
Finally, about nine hours after my incident with the piece of wood on the fence, I arrived back home, a place where there is a mirror. My cheek was still a dark red from the gash the wood took out of it.
Will this teach me a lesson from hopping fences, instead of opening gates, probably not. Wounds heal, and gates still are not fun to open.