Heavy Metal
The Fair used to come three or four times a year to the park near my childhood home. We used to head down there as soon as it left, to trawl the grass for lost coins, in the manner of guttersnipes the world over.

One day I was "working" the shooting gallery pitch, and I noticed all the splatted air-gun pellets lying around. These were clearly lead, or something similar, so we collected a coke-can full of them and took them home, with the intention of melting them down and casting our own lead soldiers.

We put a few in an old pan on the stove, and sure enough, they melted quite easily. We soon had a pool of shiny liquid metal roiling around in the pan. Quite thrilling for a young lad!

Now, it so happened that the kitchen had just been redecorated, and there were expensive new waterproof carpet tiles down. We were under strict orders not to get them dirty or damage them in any way. So, when I managed to fumble the pan of molten metal, I naturally tried to stop it spilling on the floor. By catching it in my hand.

Clearly that wasn't a workable idea, and I believe I might have said "Oh Dear" or something to that effect. I needed to get rid of the hot metal quickly, so did the obvious thing -- still worried about the floor, I tipped it into my OTHER hand.

"Whoops" I said once more, before finally, and inevitably, dumping it on the new tiles. So as well as hugely blistered hands I got a blistered arse from mum* too.

I never did like fairs, much.

* Easy, tiger.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Tue 14 Jun 2011, 17:26, Reply)