A quickly told birthday memory with minimal editing.

My Mom decided that having a kiddy tea party would be fun.

I’m not sure how old I turned that June 6th; maybe six, maybe seven. My Mom decided that having a kiddy tea party would be fun. So there I sat at the head of our kitchen table, family and neighborhood kids crowding our kitchen. The cups were laid out for all, each with its bag of Constant Comment ready to go. I’d be served first because I was the Birthday Boy. Mom took the clear Pyrex kettle of boiling water from the stove and approached me as I sat waiting.  A pace or two away, she tripped over someone’s outstretched legs, stumbled, and dumped the entire pot onto my chest and stomach.

My Dad had quick reactions; he immediately reached down and pulled my shirt off over my head to stop me from being burned more deeply. I shrieked even louder as large patches of skin came off, stuck to the wet cotton.

At the hospital, they were very suspicious, questioning Mom intensely while I was attended to. Fortunately for her, there were a couple of dozen witnesses that were able to assure them that it had been just a very unfortunate accident, a trip and a fall at a very bad time.

I was left with first and second degree burns on my chest and abdomen. They sent me home with some salve. The blisters stung like hell when they opened up, though. It was a long summer. I healed with no scarring, except maybe a remarkable lack of chest hair for one of southern Italian heritage. Then again, Mom was Norwegian.

That, and a real paranoia about getting burned again.

Dave Ventre
A hyper-annuated wannabee scientist with a lovely wife and a mountain biking problem.