Flashbacks…

When I was younger I had a friend who had to go to the hospital. The story was a dramatic and scary one that for many years would haunt me.

My friend had been outside playing and being a boy he had probably been running, jumping and making a fool of himself when all the sudden he fell off into some rebar and had to go to the hospital because it had tore through his leg and he was going to need stitches.

For some reason, I always remembered this story and kinda filed in the back of my head as something REALLY weird that happened. Poor kid. What were the odds of THAT happening?

After my divorce I hung out with two of the coolest guys in the world. Dale and Zach. We use to spend hours and hours together laughing and picking on each other. Dale and Zach worked together in construction and after work they would come over to my house and have a beer, download music and talk.
One day, Dale came over and he was explaining to me what he had done that day to a house.
I don’t remember what I was doing, but I must not have been paying attention close enough because out of the blue he mentioned he had some rebar in the back of his truck.
“What? You’re kidding me?!” I got all excited, “Can I see the rebar?”
Zach and Dale knew I wasn’t exactly normal, but I think that’s why they loved me. They never knew which ‘Kristine’ they were going to be hanging out with.

“You want to see the rebar?” Dale asked as he got up to walk out the front door with me. “Okay weirdo, lets go.”

As we walked out to the bed of the truck and I looked down at the stacks of concrete reinforcement bars I was so confused. Dale must have noticed because he asked me what was wrong.

“This…this…isn’t the stuff they put in pies.”

Of course, the whole story about my friend falling and hurting himself on REBAR makes so much more sense than the image I had in my head for thirty years.

Rebar, not Rhubarb.