9 January 2002 - life lesson

When I was twelve years old, I learned a valuable life lesson. A kindly bully, knowing I would never do such a thing myself, broke my arm for me. I stayed overnight in the hospital, in the same room as another kid who had a broken leg. My visitors told me, “At least it wasn’t your leg,” and his said, “At least it wasn’t your arm.”

The doctor told me that by the time I was twenty, it would be impossible to tell that the arm had been broken—but I knew better. I was a fast learner.