Sixty-four years ago, I broke my arm (I was 5) on the swingset at Starla Nipper's house down the street. My mother had told me not to go inside. I had to go inside to get outside to the swing set. I was standing on the bench seats straddle-legged (Starla was on the teeter-totter swing), having the best time until I slipped, and my arm went through the opening where my feet were supposed to be, to begin with. I felt it snap. I pulled my arm out and sat on their back porch, trying to hit that bone back into place. I knew I was in trouble. I was always in trouble. I tried and tried. Finally Starla told her mom, Dorrette, She came out and said, Phyllis, you can't fix that. I was devastated. I had to go back into the house to get out front to walk home. We lived a few houses apart on the same block. I took my time, but oddly, my mother stood in the front yard. I don't remember getting in trouble. I remember having to go to the green hospital and thinking that it was the same color as our walls (see photo). They set my arm, put the thick cast on, and gave me the life sentence of no swimming all summer!  Probably, my brother was teasing me about it, thus this expression! LOL