When I was a teen, my family used wood cook stoves to heat our home. If you've not seen one, they're big, cast-iron monstrosities, that eat wood, coal, or maybe even peat.
Anyway, it was my chore to keep the wood chopped and stocked, for our fire. This meant split wood and kindling.
Now, my family never bought the nicely aged wood; this was pine that we cut ourselves, and it was often juicy and definitely "green." This means that cutting it was very, very difficult, and nearly impossible to make kindling out of.
In any case, I was a lazy kid, and I didn't do my job.
So, at 2:00 am my step dad woke me up by dowsing me with cold water while I was asleep in bed. After he was done yelling at me, I went out into the dark, and begun chopping the logs into proper firewood.
Trouble is, it was dark. I had a railroad lantern, but those don't put off much light.
In any case, I ended up hitting my head with the axe (nicking my forehead) because I was chopping the wood in a rage like a madman. (Not unlike Kip.)
I can't tell you how it really happened, though I still have the scar (in my dwindling hairline) to prove it.
The cut bled down my face enough for me to feel sorry for myself, and I didn't require any stitches or anything like that.
That was my inspiration for this strip.
- Daniel
