Thursday, May 17, 2007

One Step Closer to Becoming Bubble Boy

I've written before about my son's overwhelming clumsy gene. Which he gets from me, for sure. But it seems that my clumsy gene morphed when he added it to his DNA and turned into some kind of reverse superpower. Which instead of giving you great ability, focuses on hindering you as much as possible.

Anything can cause my child to fall. Carpeting. A blade of grass. The Grand Canyon. A warm summer breeze.

Luckily, he didn't inherit his father's daredevil genes, because the combination would most likely be deadly. While other toddler boys his age are busy trying to scale houses to get on the roof, my son is perfectly happy body slamming very high count goose down pillows.

Which means his Mama is a little less likely to be put on prozac.

Yesterday, I return from lunching with an old friend of mine (old as in I've known her for a few years, not old as in she's over 90), and there's a message on my voice mail. And of course, it's Little Man's daycare.

These messages are always stressful because they always start off with "hello, it's so and so from daycare. And uhum. I must tell you first of all that your son is just fine, he still has most limbs and they say his head can be easily reattached. However, we needed to call you to let you know that even though Little Man is just fine he did have an itty bitty so tiny little accident..."

And so I always brace myself, because I'm worst-case-scenario girl. And right away, my brain worries that he's in the hospital, crying that his Mama isn't with him. Or that his friend, who is the biter of the class and I've nicknamed Hannibal Lechter has swallowed his severed finger and now there isn't any way to reattach it.

Finally, the lady in the message tells me that at lunch, my son fell out of his chair.


For the record, my child is not at a daycare that uses precarious future-looking bar stools.

The kids eat in these plastic chairs that are approximately four inches off the ground. The kind that an adult can't sit in without having their face buried in their own ass.

But my son, the wonder boy of clumsiness that he is, managed to somehow fall off the chair and slam his face into it or the table (this part's not very clear) and now has a boo boo.

When I went to take him home after work, I show up and his eye is swollen and he has a scrape more than two inches long on the outside of his eye, from his eye lid to the bottom of his nose.

And this, people, is why I'm not paranoid when I make my son wear a football helmet to bed.

Because if anyone could split his skull in his sleep, it would be my child.




Loukia said...

Hi! Just visiting.. and love your blog and your little boy is a cutie-pie! Oh yeah I'm Canadian, too! ;)

Kellie said...'s not nice to laugh at a post where a darling child is injured, but you're funny. "Face buried in their own ass"...KILLS me!! Football helmet to bed? Funny stuff.

Glad he's alright and glad there's no need for Prozac :)

Beccy said...

I agree with Kellie, you have such an amusing way of telling it!

Rachel said...

LMAO!!! Not at Little Man, but at how you tell the story!

Poor Little Man, I hope he gets better very soon and is body slamming pillows again!

jesse said...

Love the way you tell your stories-and poor baby.

Julie said...

I hate those stupid ass chairs. Whenever we have parent conferences I always end up concentrating on the fact the chair is about to collapse underneath me than what the teacher is saying.

Glad Little Man was not seriously hurt! Just wrap him in bubble wrap tomorrow before daycare!

Emma in Canada said...

Good God what is wrong with my computer, I swear I left a comment.

If that kid does one day swallow your son's severed finger he will eventually poop it out and I am quite sure that a finger kept in poop is almost as good as a finger kept on ice.

And yeah, there's just something about the way you tell a story.

Elle said...

A helmet really might be considered a good part of his daily wardrobe!! I have a clumsy kid too - I feel the pain all too well!