The Time I Stepped on a Nail

The summer I was six years old my brother, Seth, was taking apart our deck. We needed it taken down because it was old and weak and wasn't safe anymore. When I was walking near the place where the nails were I accidentally stepped on one. I was barefoot. I knew right away it was a nail, but it only hurt a little bit at first. My sister, Rachel, had to hold me down so Mom could pull the nail out. That is when it really hurt. Mom put an ice pack on the spot and carried me inside to rest. I was sad because Mom and I were just leaving for the pool and now we couldn't go. It took four days for my foot to stop hurting whenever I stepped on that spot. When no one was around to help I would hop on one foot to get to the kitchen. I was happy when my foot healed up, then Mom and I could go to the pool.