When I wanted to wear red shoes, I wore red shoes. For a significant amount of time my wardrobe was centered around matching red shoes. At a young age I was especially unorthodox and spunky. When I wanted to wear my red shoes to bed I did and my parents woke up to find me asleep with red shoes covering my feet.
Being a headstrong child, I seldom desired to complete tasks and play the way an ordinary child might. Craving more excitement than the world of Barbie, I leapt up from the floor of my playroom and began making my way to the garage to retrieve my child-sized, battery powered Jeep. Desiring to make the afternoon more exciting, I decided I was savvy enough to be able to make my way outside with my eyes closed. Squeezing my eyes shut, I confidently began walking towards the door. Being completely sure I had passed through the doorway, I veered right ready to saunter through the kitchen. Unfortunately for me, my calculations were off and I slammed into the wall. My Mom, hearing a loud thud through the wall, ran and saw me laying on the ground with blood on my face. Hardly aware of what happened, I emerged from my stupor dazed not knowing what had occurred-- apparently I blacked out for a few minutes and managed to give myself a bloody nose.
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