The Family Curse

Frostbite got Mom. For Dad, it was pneumonia. My older brother struggled for half a decade with the whooping cough but he eventually beat it, then he got hit by a train.

You might say my family has bad luck. I’ve never been sick in my life, but I’d gladly trade a virus or two for the fourteen falls I’ve suffered in my career as a roofer. The last time I fell, I ended up in a trash compactor. I lived, anyway.

Prosthetics have come a long way over the years. Most people don’t even realize that my left hand and right foot are fake, not that I make a point of broadcasting that information. Despite my woes, I’m able to live a fairly normal life.

I’m a chef now. As long as I stay away from knives and open flames, I should be alright. I was preparing some pasta primavera last Tuesday when I got the call.

“Is Mr. Phillip Kilroy there, please?”


“Mr. Kilroy, this is Dr. Felipe at Oak Ridge Hospital E.R. Your son was accidentally crushed by a wrecking ball during recess…..and he’s absolutely fine.”

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