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I work at an after-school program with heaps of kids and they will not stop asking for this one. It's all true.


About a hundred hundred years ago my great grandfather or something went to Chicago to help fight the Chicago fire and finally they got it put out and he was just about to go home and his horse kicked him in the leg and it wouldn't get well and the doctors had to cut off his leg on Thanksgiving morning. He had a wooden leg the rest of his life. But it could have been worse, he could have died.
Yes, he could walk. No he was not a pirate, ha ha.


Then one Thanksgiving morning my great uncle or something was plowing the field and he fell off it and it sliced off his ear.
The tractor was not moving at the time. He just happened to hit a sharp part.
Yeah he could still hear mostly ok. The inside part of his ear was fine. He used this horn thing to help him hear.
Yes it probably did look gross. But at least he didn't die.


Then one year my family went to Nashville to have Thankgiving with my aunt and uncle. While we were there my mom broke her glasses, my dad broke his wrist, and our car got hit by a drunk driver.
We weren't in the car at the time which was good cause we could have died. It was pretty smashed up though.
Yes, they caught him. I don't know if he went to jail. Yes, it was bad. And my brother had night terrors.
That's when you're stuck in a dream but it looks like you are awake but you're really asleep. My brother sat up screaming in the middle of the night, yelling about his appendix, it hurts it hurts! My parents were freaking out and my mom called the hospital and then my brother woke up and was like, what is everybody looking at?
No he didn't almost die, there was nothing wrong with him. No he was not faking.


Then one Thanksgiving I went home and something went wrong with the sewer and - well, what was supposed to go down in the toilet, started coming up in the shower.
Yes. Exactly. Yes we got it to stop.
How do you THINK it smelled? Dude we almost died.


Then one year on Thanksgiving morning my brother went outside to chop some wood for the wood stove. He was about 14. He came back inside covered in blood, so much blood my mom assumed it was a joke, like ha ha, where'd you get the gallon of fake blood.
My brother wiped some of the blood off his forehead and said "No, seriously mom, wanna see my skull?" and showed her. The hatchet had bounced off the log and twisted around in his sweaty hand and hit him in the forehead. My mom and dad took him to the emergency room and I had to stay home and finish cooking Thanksgiving dinner. And clean up all the blood.
Yeah he was fine. He only got three stitches. The doctor said if it had hit him an inch lower, he would have hit his eye. Or it could have killed him.


Then last year I went to my parents' house and on Thanksgiving morning I went up in the attic to get something. I don't remember what.
Our attic is unfinished, and that means you have to be careful where you step, because not all parts of the floor are strong enough to stand on. You have to walk on the wood parts. Well there was a piece of cardboard and I stepped on it and it was slippery and my foot punched right through the floor, which was the ceiling in the kitchen. And I almost fell through. And I had to grab on to a beam and was dangling there and I almost died. I hauled myself back up and I was freaking out from almost dying and I looked down and I saw my dad standing underneath me in the kitchen holding a cup of coffee with little bits of stuff floating in it.
The first thing he said was, "Are you ok?"
I said yeah, yeah, I think, yeah!
The second thing he said was, "Put your foot back through!"
So I did. and he took a picture. The end!

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