The Embarrassing Incidental Moment

Back in 2011, during that magical period between Christmas and New Year's Eve, time didn't seem linear. Mondays, Thursdays, and Sundays were just days, each blending into the next. During this special time, I remember an incident that still makes me cringe in recollection. This was a period of innocence and joy—before the complexities of life and society set in.

My New Mountain Bike

It was summertime, and I was nine years old. To celebrate summer, I got a new mountain bike with 21 speeds and dual suspension—quite a feat for me at my age. My parents assured me that I would grow into it. And indeed, I did. I spent many happy hours exploring the neighborhood on this bike, feeling like the coolest kid on a sunny day.

A Summer Day of Excitement

Our house was at the end of a cul-de-sac, but the hill made it challenging to ride back up. However, I loved the thrill of going down. One day, as I was speeding down the hill with no helmet and no regard for my safety, I hit a little obstacle. It was my younger sister on her tricycle. In a desperate attempt to avoid a collision, I braked hard, but the bike and I were moving too fast.

The Unpleasant Aftermath

My body slammed into the handlebars—or at least that’s how it felt. An artist’s depiction of the incident would show a boy on a bike, with his body in a curled position as he fell. But that’s close. The harsh truth is that my testicles were the ones receiving the most impact. The pain was excruciating, and I couldn't help but cry. My mother rushed over with my little brother in tow.

"Ethan! Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" my mom asked.

"My balls..." I managed to say through my tears. At nine, I didn’t fully understand adult terminology but I knew the connotation. My little brother, who was likewise a fan of Cartoon Network, burst out laughing at the simple word. But I was in too much pain. I couldn't muster any sort of humor.

My mother insisted on going to the doctor, and we did. In the waiting room, a lollipop and an ice pack on my nether regions provided some distraction. When it was finally my turn, a female doctor walked in. This couldn’t have been worse.

Showing the Doctor

I tried to hide my embarrassment, but Mom was adamant. She brought me to the doctor whatever it took. Resisting futile, I eventually had to show the doctor my injury. I was ashamed and embarrassed, and insisted my mother leave the room.

After the examination, the doctor told me I was lucky it wasn’t more serious. Unfortunately, the teasing from my brother was worse. The embarrassment of that day is a memory I can never fully shake.