It was the summer of 2008, and I was watching the Beijing Olympics. Being a naive three year old I thought I could do many of the things that the Olympians could do. One of my favorite Olympic events was the iron cross that athletes performed in gymnastics. They would leap up, grab the loops, and then swing around and hold themselves up with their muscular arms.

“Man,” I thought to myself, “I can’t wait any longer. I have to try the iron cross. It’s time to do this.” All I needed for my makeshift iron cross was the edges of two sofas.

“One, two, three!” I counted in my head. I swung forward lifting my legs off the ground. Bang! The next moment I felt a throb in my chin and there was blood all over my shirt. An excruciating pain shot through my face. My mom, hearing my shouts, came down stairs and rushed me to the hospital.

At the hospital, a syringe was poked into my blue, purple and red chin and suddenly made my jaw feel looser. After a few moments all the pain in my chin was sucked out and my chin became numb.

As each stitch was placed in my chin with precise accuracy, I got sleepier and sleepier. My eyes started to droop slowly and then finally, after the surgery was finished, my eyes shut and I was fast asleep.

I woke up after a couple hours with seven stitches in my chin and a feeling of regret in my heart. Looking back on it today, I realized how unwise my decision to try the iron cross was. These days, before I do something risky I wait, count to ten, take a deep breath and think if it is a wise decision.