I was four years old and a very independent child. It was after dinner and I needed a band aid for a cut I had received earlier. I had remembered the other day I had found the band aids on the top shelf of tall book shelf in my room.

Walking up to my room, my mom asked what I needed. I told her that I needed a band aid for my cut and she told me that they were in her bathroom. I knew she was wrong. Absolutely, 100 percent wrong, I knew I had seen them on the top self of my book shelf. They were there and couldn’t be anywhere else.

I got to my book shelf and stared up at the top self. The band aids were up there and I would have to scale the tall white mountain filled with all my favorite books. I put my small foot on the second shelf and began the ascent. I got both feet on the second shelf and then worked my way up to the third shelf and so on until both of my feet were on the fourth shelf. I looked up to the top of the shelf and began to search for the band aids.

As I was rummaging around the pictures and books that were on the top shelf, the book shelf became wobbly and unstable. It soon was at the point where I realized something was not right. I tried to jump off but that was the wrong move. Suddenly I was on the ground with the bookshelf and all of its contents on top of my small body.

My dad ran in to see what had happened and pulled the book shelf off of me. I was not hurt too bad, I had a large scrape on my cheek and was shaken but other than that I was unhurt. When my mom asked me what had happened I told her. I had been looking for the band aids. My dad carried me off to the bathroom in their room followed by my mom, who gave me a funny look. I got into their bathroom and my mom goes to the medicine cabinet. She opens it up and she pulls out a small box. I had been wrong and my escapade useless; she was holding the box of band aids in her hand.

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