The Floor Is Not A Trampoline, 1996, by Lisa Kosobucki

From MemoryArchive

Who: Lisa Kosobucki
What: Childhood Injury
When: September 16,1996
Where: My Living Room

The Floor Is Not A Trampline

“Hey Mom, look what I can do!”

These were the fatal words I squealed right before I bounded off the fireplace onto the ground before my mother’s horrified eyes. Just a few hours before I made the jump, I was at my friend Carly Grill’s sixth birthday party. She had recently acquired a trampoline, so obviously we all went to go jump on the new toy. Considering we had just stuffed ourselves full to the brim with cake and ice cream this probably wasn’t the best idea. Neither was it wise that we ignored the weight capacity on the warning label of the trampoline. But whatever, we were foolish little children who were half illiterate, who cares about stupid warning labels anyways? It was my very first time on a trampoline and I was ecstatic. The jumping, leaping, colliding with other children, and the occasional knocking of heads all seemed like great fun to me. My favorite part was the flips; I found the contorting of my body into a tight ball and twirling around in mid-air until I miraculously landed upright to be an amazing experience. So naturally, like any other six year old, I was excited to show my mom what I had learned. When I came home I sprinted into the living room where my mom was laying down on the coach with the flu. Before she could even mutter a hello to me I hopped up onto the fireplace and said those fatal words, “Hey Mom, look what I can do!” In my excitement to show my mom that I could do a flip, I did not stop to think that the floor would not be as bouncy as the trampoline. Instead of bounding back into the air like I had on the trampoline, gravity brought me straight down to the floor with a loud, hard painful thud. Amidst the thud there was also the sound of a cracking bone, later that day as I was rushed to the doctor’s, I discovered that my stupidity jump had earned me a broken arm. So they wrapped me up in a bright cherry red cast and sent me on home with the lesson learnt; the floor is not a trampoline.