it started innocently. so very innocently. a nice friendly game of catch.
and then, BAM!
we’re suddenly staring, wide-eyed (pun intended) at a scene straight out of “Rocky”.
from the looks of it, one would think he tried to lock lips with a Mack truck. but no, this was the doing of this innocent young thing….
that’s right, the carnage you see above you was all this ones doing. apparently Zach attempted to catch the baseball with his eye instead of the traditional way.
the more we looked at this huge blue mass bulging back out at us, we couldn’t help but shreik in horror at it’s gory-ness!
with each shreik, of course, brought even more looks of terror in our poor boys face.
rule number one (or two, or four, or something) of parenting is: NEVER ‘let on’ to your child just how terrible something actually is! be it injuries, their choice of wardrobe or that unrecognizable thing they lovingly drew for you).
just play it cool! you’re in charge, after all. they look up to YOU. things are peachy just as long as mom and dad say they’re peachy.
but just try remembering this, when you’re standing there, peering into your child’s brain matter!
this, my friends, is just yet another addition to an already extensive list of injuries my children have blessed our insurance company with.
we have falls off of the changing table, hematomas from hell, stitches in the eye, nosebleeds, a tooth gone through the bottom lip, a dangling tongue and daddy’s personal favorite, a first class trip up into the air out of daddy’s arms and back down halfway onto the sidewalk and into a thorn bush!
I am just waiting for CPS to come banging on my door any day now!
how on earth do parents survive this?
I hear grizzly stories all the time from mothers of three, four, even five boys!
what type of insurance plan do you think those mothers have? they must have 911 and poison control on speed dial.
I just have to thank my lucky stars that I only have two boys.
although, there are days that I swear there must be another one or two stowing away in my house, maniacally plotting away with my sweet, innocent boys. trying to come up with some way to drive mommy straight into the “nut house”.
which I quite think, some days, would be a nice little rest.
5 responses to “"cut me, Mick. cut me!"”
Oh my! That must have been scary. I have one 6-year old boy. Last night as I was cooking dinner, I heard a soft, “Mommy! Mommy! Help me!” I tore out the back door to find him sitting on the ground crying because he was all tangled up in the strap on his bug catcher and couldn’t get free. I don’t know how he did it, but it was very snug and even broke the skin. Poor little fella. I was able to get it off of him without too much trouble.
Yeah, I’m gonna go with the little sister logic on this one and blame it all on Jason.
I remember when he was trying to be a good uncle and play catch with Alan, which resulted in a large baseball bruise on another little cheek around town.
I hope Zach isn’t in too much pain!
We love you guys!
Oh no! What a sad little face with a bad black eye! But I guess we have all had to learn how to catch with our hands and not our eyes at least once in our lives (I have even caught a few in the leg and stomach!)
Kalurah,
Also having 2 boys, “boy” do I have some injury stories! One of the saddest involved my daughter though. She had just turned one and wanted to go on the toddler swings at the park. Well she got to the swing and pushed it and it came back and hit her in the face. Black eye. For her first whole year, she had been kept in pristine condition under my watchful eye and in a second, well that was all gone.
Hope Zach is feeling better. Just don’t get all Brady Bunch and put a steak on his eye.
—Laurie
isn’t that typical? the ones you keep the most heavily safeguarded are the ones that end up getting hurt!
and as far as the steak…if THAT’S what was in my freezer at the time, I may have used it.
It ended being a bag of frozen hashbrowns!
😉