I know I brag on my kids a lot. I could have worse faults. Like passing silent but deadly gas in line at the DMV, tailgating people who drive the speed limit, or sawing off unicorn horns to make expensive, magical paperweights. So stop your eye-rolling and take your Hillbilly Mom medicine like it's sweet, sweet Histinex.
My kids have a unique talent that I have not yet shouted to the blogworld. They are adept at unintentional self-mutilation. Sure, I might have mentioned the occasional broken elbow or concussion in the heat of the ER moment. But let's take a moment to appreciate the total inventory. I shall not specify which malady belongs to which son. That would be too time-intensive, even for long-winded Hillbilly Mom. In no particular order:
broken elbow from running in the hall
broken other elbow from falling up the steps
concussion from beating head on gymnasium floor
ten stitches in eyebrow from beating head on gymnasium wall
burn on top of forearm from oven heating element
hole through chin from teeth in unfortunate kitchen parallel bar accident
hole in knee from fall down school steps
broken blister on top of foot, unknown origin
bruised ribs from fall down basement steps
misshapen finger from swordfighting incident
lawnmower muffler burn on inner forearm
chunk out of finger from sound card installation gone wrong
sliced ear from unanticipated movement during haircut
bitten tongue from yellow banana-car roll-over
knotty knees from countless stumbles
lumpy head from magnetic attraction to hard surfaces
Those are the incidents that come to mind at the moment.
The most recent cake-taker has got to be The Pony's mysterious chin bruise. I saw it yesterday after school. He did not have it before school. It was a dark oval, about the size of a quarter, on The Pony's left bottom chin area.
You've got something on your chin. Wipe it off.
It won't wipe off.
Let me see.
It's not dirt.
What is it?
A bruise.
Did somebody punch you?
No.
Did you run into the wall in gym?
No.
Did you collide with somebody?
No.
What IS it already?
The Pony ducked his head. Wild horses couldn't drag information out of him. He seemed embarrassed about the incident. You have to give him his own time, and kick-start him with a threat to call his school and ask if he doesn't remember what happened. That's his standard excuse.
"Well...I was sitting in science right before time for the bell. I had my science book on its end like this, leaning my head on it. It was part way open, and my chin was leaning on it. I pushed the book shut to get ready to put it in my pack. And my chin was in the way when I closed the book."
I'm expecting his Mensa application and letter from the U.S. Olympic Committee any day now.
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2 comments:
When My youngest son was 15 he snuck out of the house in the midnight hours and grabbed his sister's bicycle to go visit a girl he was smitten with. He hit some sand and lost control, the bike was pretty much wrecked and he dislocated his shoulder. A patrol car stopped to see if he was okay and he convinced them that he was. Seems he was embarrassed because he was on a girl's bike.......
Kathy,
At least he had the good sense to be embarrassed, like any normal 15-year-old boy.
Unlike my 15-year-old, who saw nothing wrong with holding a random towel scooped up off the locker room floor on his eyebrow for the 20-minute ride to the hospital, to stem the river of blood. A towel somebody had probably used to wipe his butt earlier in the day.
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