Greetings, people!🙌
Before you read further,
This article is not calling for a sorry; please don't say that to me. Although the occurrence was painful, but I like how it happened. It reminds me of my crying friend
Image is mine
Okay, the photo above shows the mark on my arm after a hot electric iron mistakingly fell on my hand.
There's a very popular stereotype in my part of the world that says that, before anyone masters how to ride a bicycle, he or she must sustain an injury. Well, the stereotype appears to be real(for me) because I had an injury during the time I learned how to ride a bicycle. After the injury, I felt certified to ride a bicycle.
I think this stereotype appears to people that iron clothes as a work or hobby too; in one way or another, they must get burned by iron, and it seems I've paid my dues too.
Look at how it happened;
It was one of the Thursdays of August when I promised a friend to help her do something online. We talked very well, and we agreed on the time for me to deliver the help, but something happened along the line; I had an emergency work (ironing of clothes) to attend to, which I swung into, skipping the help I promised my friend.
My friend is such a person that doesn't just message and wait for replies; if she messages and the message doesn't get blue thick(WhatsApp messaging) within seconds, she will switch to calling straight, and you can't avoid her calls because she's going to cry.
I knew that; I knew she would call while I'm ironing clothes, so I plugged in my airpod so I would pick up the call with it and kept the phone away because I don't like attending to calls to avoid burning people's clothes.
Just as expected, she called. I tried to answer via the airpod, but it wasn't working. The first call ended while I was struggling to pick. The second, third, and fourth calls came, and I was still in the struggle.
"Ohhhh God!" I knew she was in tears already, and I just needed to answer her call by all means. So when the fifth call came, I decided to drop the electric iron and reach out to my phone.
That was it. I didn't just know what happened. I found the burning surface of the iron landed on my soft, light skin arm, and it gave out that noise when meat is being fried in boiling oil, "Tchwwwwain!"
Jeeeeez! I pulled it off the iron instantly and went for water. The water didn't solve anything.
That was how I bore the pain until I was relieved.
Did I answer the call afterwards?
Yeah, I did. I had to brave up and answer the call because she was in tears already. I didn't tell her I had an iron burn until last week.
Thanks for reading.
Incase that my friend comes to read this;
I say make I add small Jara to the story, no vex say you dey cry
