You guys? I TOTALLY FELL AGAIN! Remember how I told you about Kalina tripping me, and I found myself sprawled out on my office floor, legs and arms akimbo, battered and bruised with a screaming child at my side begging for forgiveness? Remember?
It was a different kid-related incident, only this time it didn’t have anything to do with Kalina exercising her lungs or testing my patience. No, this time it was my 3-year-old nephew who I happened to just be staring at today, lovingly, wondering how on earth we’re going to make it alive, in one piece, while he is growing up. He is a HANDFUL. Lovingly, of course. Bless his little destructive, patience-testing, busy, curious, beautiful heart!
So this is how it all went down.
My kids and two of my nephews were over at my mom’s house this afternoon. I had work to do, and Jason was fixing something for my mom over at her place, so I stayed home while the kids went and ran amok on her five acres. AJ is the oldest of the bunch at the very wise age of 7, so he was the one relegated to helper duty. Never mind the fact that while I was on the phone with my mom, she had to tell him not once but twice to NOT push the little kids down on the trampoline, and, no, it didn’t matter that they were laughing because someone was seriously going to lose a finger or something.
Anyway, while I’m chatting away to my mom and she’s eyeballing the kids, suddenly she sees them running towards the barn. The rule is they can’t go in the barn unless for a very specific reason or there’s an adult out there. Of course, the barn is nothing more than a glorified storage unit with an apartment in it, so they have no business being in there anyway. So my mom, sitting on her back porch, hollers for them to come back out of the barn.
Half a second later, out coming the kids, running and whooping, scaring the chickens, making them squawk and making the dog bark. She does her typical child head-counting, “One, two, three… AJ? Where’s Wickerson*?” AJ looks around at the other kids then runs back into the barn and back out again with a shrug to his shoulders. This is when my mom starts to get a little worried because he was seriously right there less than 60 seconds ago. I heard him on the phone even. So my mom hangs up the phone with me in a rush, certain he’s been distracted by the horses next door or attempting to get up on the riding lawnmower for a looksie, and tells me she’ll call me right back.
Not three minutes later she’s calling me again in a controlled panic. “I can’t find him!” Her voice was steely but etched in worry, so I asked her, “You want me there?” She says yes and we both hang up seconds after the call rang through.
Only problem is I’m sitting here in a lounge shirt/nightie thing, and I have to get dressed to drive the two miles to her house. So I throw on yesterday’s clothes, grab my cell phone and step out of my bedroom door and into my office. Right as I step past my desk my foot slides out from under me, and I go tumbling to the ground, which is about the same time I realize I must have knocked a cutting board/craft-esque board that was sitting on my desk (that has one slide that is slick as glass, which is, of course, facing the floor) to the ground. So, like I said, I tumble to the ground and land square on the SAME KNEE I hurt before, only this time I’m on my hands and knees and not splayed out across the entire floor. I managed to hit my desk again but not nearly as bad.
So I’m on the floor and I begin to take stock of what just happened. I feel my hand start throbbing, and I realize I’m there, on my hands and knees, breathing heavy, WHEEZING because I’m still getting over this bronchitis. And because of the bronchitis, before I can do anything like stand up and dust myself off, I succumb to a coughing fit, right there on the floor, doggy style, until, with a final rasp, I right myself up, breathless and panicked.
Before I do anything else, I pick up the board I slipped on and throw it across the room because, you know, that’s conducive to the situation. And no one was around to see my tantrum. And it was asking for it.
And then the phone rings. My mom, breathing in sighs of relief, tells me Wickerson is fine. He was found, warmly bundled inside the house being rocked to sleep by my grandmother who had motioned for him to come in because it was his nap time. Only thing is she failed to tell my mom this! And my grandma, who is almost 80 years old and is half deaf herself, relies heavily on her hearing aids, which means she somehow managed to not hear the kids and my mom screaming all over the place for my nephew. It was only when Kalina walked physically into the room and saw my grandma with him that they knew any better.
And you know, the thing about my grandma, even if she has her hearing aids in, is she manages to only half listen to you because she’d rather not say, “What?” She’d rather just sit there in ignorant bliss, nodding and smiling. In fact, she’s gotten so bad at this that she recently had a doctor’s appointment where she managed to convey to her doctor that she was allergic to a certain antibiotic that would have helped a cold she had. Only thing? She’s not allergic! The likely culprit? She nodded and smiled, pretending to hear the doctor so as to not embarrass herself by saying, “What?” This is why she’s not allowed to go to the doctor by herself anymore, so sayeth me and my mom.
Mind you, my grandmother is very alert, very active, volunteering for the local VA Domiciliary several times a week as well as being active in church and family life. She’s online! She’s spry. She’s hip. She’s with it. She’s just deaf as all crap.
So anyway, back to the panic. So I sit down with a thud into Jason’s office chair, where I had answered the phone. And as I mutter my own sighs of relief that he was okay, I glance down at my hand and see I’ve torn a healthy chunk of flesh out of the middle of my palm on my right hand in two spots. No clue what I hit! All I know is it’s bleeding and painful. And then I have to then explain to my mother why am I panting on the phone because it’s not like I was the one running around looking for my nephew!
Oh, and even better? They managed to find my nephew around about the time I was getting dressed. However, my mom was calling my cell phone assuming that’s what I would have on me (and rightfully so!). Only problem is Kalina had sat down next to me not two hours prior to this and played a game on my iPhone. But the game she plays is so dang loud that I made her turn the volume down, and she opted to turn the volume down completely. This disaster could have been avoided altogether!
*my nickname for him that relates in no way to his real name, which is likely to confuse him when he’s old.
**If you’re wondering where Jason was during this escapade, he was at the store, running an errand. Also blissfully ignorant.