Ausborne Blog

It was the morning of Friday, October 4, 2002, and I was off to a new adventure.  This was the morning that I was packing up my car and moving out to Central Oregon.  Melanie and the kids would follow behind by a few weeks, as soon as I was able to find a house in which we could live.

Leaving Utah wasn’t something I was particularly excited to do, though I was very excited to be joining the ranks of the newly employed.  You see, I had somewhat recently been told that my services were no longer needed at my previous job.  That place seemed to have a habit of cutting jobs the minute times got tough.  Hmm.

Anyways, I was almost ready to leave and Melanie and I were just finishing getting ready in the upstairs bathroom of our little townhouse when we heard a blood-curdling scream from Byron, who was two at the time.  He came running up the stairs and when he rounded the corner, we could see blood running down from his forehead.

“Oh, great,” I thought.  “What happened!?”

David chimed in with, “He was running in the kitchen and he slipped and bonked his head against the wall like this!” and proceeded to hit his forehead really hard with his hand.  Only then did Byron give his side of the story and, oddly enough, it was a little different than what we had previously heard.

“David threw a Hot Wheels car at me and it hit me in the head!” was the new version of the story.  Immediately after the accusation was made, David went on the defensive.  “Well, he threw it first!”

Uh, huh.  That’s going to make it all better.

Instead of me hopping in the car to start the 11 hour drive to Oregon, I was accompanying my wife to the doctors office so the doctor could stitch a forehead back together.

Byron’s forehead still bears the scar.  Of course, it didn’t help that he ripped out three of the four stitches that night.  Melanie ended up having to take him to the emergency room to have the thing glued back together, as the stitches apparently rip out too easily.

Ah, memories.