Sunday, March 25, 2012

Swimming and Bleeding and Stuff.

I'm supposed to be the adult. I mean, when Handsome and I get together and we start to roughhouse, I'm the one who's supposed to have the ability to see when things start getting out of hand. I'm the one who's supposed to reign things in before someone gets hurt, right?

When will I start actually start doing that? Before someone gets hurt?

Because better than half the time, it's me. You think I would learn after all this 'negative reinforcement'.

But no.

We went to the YMCA for free swim this afternoon. It was a last-minute thing, and we got there almost half-way through the 2 hours the pool was open for today. We suited up, lockered our belongings, and hit the water.

That's when things started to go wrong.

We started out playing tag in the water, just the two of us. That was going just fine, until it developed into a little wrestling over who was currently 'it'. It was during the wrestling that I got kicked in the jimmies.

I should have taken that as a warning. I should have.

We grabbed a couple of those flotation noodles, you know, the 6' long foam tubes you can use to float on... or whack each other with, at your discretion. We, of course, chose the 'whacking' application. Half-way through our foam-beating splashing battle, Handsome picked up a different pool toy. It was something like a barbell, if the weights were big chunks of foam, the same material as the noodles were made of. It had a certain rigidity from the 'bar' portion, as that appeared to be a plastic tube.

This was the beginning of the end.

"I am so Darth Maul with this," he said, spinning the floaty barbell thingie about like a quarterstaff.

He hit me with it. It hurt. He hit me with it again, and it hurt again, and I realized that the ends of the plastic tube were open, rather than capped.

This was the middle of the end.

I decided to use the length of the noodle I was still using to my advantage, and began to lay about his head and shoulders with it from a good seven feet away. He charged in, trying to cut the distance and get inside the effective reach of my weapon, at the same time coming to well within the effective range of his own. he brought the thing down on my face like a club, 'swinging for the bleachers' as they say.

This was the end.

Remember that tube I said appeared to be plastic? I think I was wrong. I think it was metal, probably aluminum or something else light, but I was right enough about the ends not being capped. That open edge whacked down on the bridge of my nose, right where my glasses usually sit.

Wasn't wearing them. Lucky break.

As Handsome continued the swing the edge scraped down my nose, taking a good strip of skin with it.

I spent the rest of Free Swim pressing paper towels to my face trying to stop the bleeding.

Like my face doesn't have enough troubles?

Someday I'll learn. Maybe.

I hope it happens soon.

Talk to you later!

P.S. - Handsome was very apologetic, and no, I didn't even yell at him. Like I said, it was at least half my fault. He's 9. I'm 42. If one of us should know better, I guess that would be me.

Maybe I am starting to learn.

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