Those little ones are flexible like rubber. Every time when i ride at the motocross track, i see them fly by on the little 50 and 60cc dirtbikes, to hit the dirt hard a moment later. No cry, picking up the bike again, and ride it like they stole that thing. The next jump they do that same sequence again. Still funny to see, time after time.
"Biting it". A big part of growing up. It's amazing how resilient we are when we're little, though. I swear, our bones were made of rubber back then.
(Edit to add: HAH. Same thoughts!)
One of my first memories is falling down the stairs to my parents' basement when I was four or so. The adults were amused that despite tumbling down a full staircase, I did not let go of the toy coffee pot that I had in my hand, and still had it in a firm grip at the bottom. It actually made me laugh when I thought about it, too! That really was a fun coffee pot thing. You'd crank it, and a little ball bounced up and down as if it was perking!
Ah yes! Memories of battle scars from falling off your bicycle onto sidewalks. I think I ultimately won since I'm still alive and those sidewalks got replaced years ago. But, the scarred knees, elbows and foreheads hurt back then. Note ... we survived without helmets and padding in the old days!