Okay, so I'm an idiot. The proof is here, bandages around my knee and thigh filled with corn starch to kill the burn. But so far it's burning, burning, burning. I want to cry, but also want to laugh at myself. My mom's in the yard when it happens. Oh you want to know what happened?
Well, my men folk decided to adjust the handle bars on my 'lil hussy' for me. Raising them up a little in order to prevent me from leaning forward. They remind me that it's a cruiser, not a crotch rocket. "Mom, try it out and see how you like the handlebars this way," says Steppie (Stephen's nickname). I'm in the middle of glazing, wearing a pair of sandals and some shorts. "What the heck" I find myself thinking, it's just in the yard and driveway. I start my baby, ride it onto the grass, slighly uphill, and hit a bit of an obstacle (a dip in the lawn), my bike begins to tip over, my bare legs make contact with the hot pipes. Stephen had the bike going just a little earlier, so it's still hot from that.
Out comes the Corn Starch and some strips of fabric. We pad the burns with lots of the starch and the intensified pain of the burn tells me that I'm probably going to be okay... should be preventing huge blisters this way. Ah, I try to ignore it, get back into the studio to continue my glazing. We have a show next week to prepare for and I can't just quit when there's so little time left before the show.
The bandages are moving up and down with every step I take and I'm getting irritated. I want to cry like a baby, but also want to laugh at myself.
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