It was an eventful weekend. Indeed, I live in 'interesting times'. Way back in the "before times", it was a glorious Friday. Nearly everyone was on vacation, leaving early, or entirely uninterested in causing problems. The Friday before a legislated long weekend has got to be the nearest thing to heaven for office workers. I was allowed to spend time on the nits and motes rather then pouring it into the bottomless hole of endless refactoring. Of course, leave it to me to bumble that opportunity. That evening, I thought it would be wise of me to clean up some of the clothing I had left on the floor before turning in. After a long evening of blog writing and blog reading, I should really tidy up. The Tyrants would be returning the next day and I would have little opportunity to engage in such mundane tasks. Some socks here, a few bits of naughties there ... some shorts just out of my reach .. but I reach anyways ... and tumble. Falling, falling ... failing to catch myself since my hands had already been sent on a mission. I watch as the bed post starts to rush at my head, growing in magnitude as the velocity increases. My God, it's full of stars! No, that's the optical effect of electric discharge when you take blunt-force trauma to the temple as the force wave ripples through the grey matter. Ummm, ouch? No, no cry of pain or anything of that sort. Just a standard "DOH!". A quick check with my hand finds that the skull is marginally intact ... but slippery? Oh crap, I'm gushing blood everywhere. So, I immediately find the LEAST sanitary cloth in the house (kitchen sink cloth) and apply it to the grand canyon. I eventually locate the Mrs in sub-basement level 3F busily vacuuming up Hounds Hair. I notify her that at 2045 I had erred in my ways and we need to find some external medical care ... since I could see white at the bottom of the canyon, I assumed I would need some stitches. True to my evaluation, an hour later my epidermis was being reassembled with 7 little BLUE bits of medical fishing line. It was a short visit, I think, because I was nauseating all the other denizens of the Emergency Waiting Room. I think that asking them if they wanted to see my brains, they were afraid of wasting a good dinner. The funniest part of the evening was the admitting nurse. She was busy asking questions of me while I was inspecting her scrubs ... particularly the blouse ... low cut and all. Um, because it had a lot of tags and buttons you see. One of them had the word 'paper' on it with a big red line crossing it off. This is noteworthy because she was clenching a bit of paper with my name on it. On the back of her hand was scrawled my admitting number. Heh. They had me sign some boilerplate papers (is this a DNR!?) and then gave me a series of shots since it had been nearly 5 weeks since I had been in the ER. It was a gallon jug with a rifle barrel attached to it ... I'm certain of that. We get a TDP (tetanus,diphtheria,pertussis) shot which has the side effect of leaving you feeling as though you have been trampled by a rogue elephant. Damn immune system, getting all uppity.
Come Saturday, the vile poisons in my body have spread to every nook and cranny. All I can manage it to sit in the garden and pick beans. I was under extraordinary commination to cease any activity that may endanger my already damaged noggin. Additionally, I was to keep the newly sewn wound clean and dry for at least 24 hours. So, mucking in the mid-summer sun amongst the dirt and grime would be the perfect course of action, no? In the mid-afternoon, the Tyrants and GrandParents arrive. There are many maudlin entreaties for hugs and kisses. The Haupertonain Clan has been reunited ... time to resume world conquest plan 35-n. Here is the kicker though. We go to the early mass on Sunday ... the 0830 one. We are a bit pooped, but no matter ... we end up going to ANOTHER Seliga event. This time, it's ANOTHER child's birthday and the entertainment is outdoor laser tag. Yep ... there are pics ... take a look at my flicker tag and you'll catch some of em. So, I'm playing army with a bunch of gung-ho 35-45 year old adults and a greater horde of 5-15 year old adolescents. Guess where the injuries are laid? Sure, it was fun. But the cost ... oh, the humanity.
Mon, Tue, Wed? You ask as if you have not had children. It's all about getting ready for Kindergarten, don't you know. It's no big deal for the kids, same room, same kids, etc. It's a MAJOR deal for the parents. Word lists, supplies, lunch menus, BLEH! It certainly adds a lot of appeal to Home Schooling. I'll have to tell you more tomorrow about the Tyrant's reaction to the
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Labels: Children, Family, Grandparents, Injury, Kindergarten, Parenting, Weekend