Child Abuse And Related Confessions

This weekend my kids were toted off to one of those school "Fun Fairs" that are anything but. Since my wife, when she's not busy taking naked pictures of her friends, is apprantly plotting some sort of bloodless coup of the PTA, she had to go. I opted instead to clean out the basement and make dump runs, because that was a better option. A few hours later the kids come home, and apparently one of the options there was face painting. My daughter has an adorable little ladybug on her face that she was saddened to learn was not permanent. My son had blue dye under and over both eyes and down his nose. He looked like a midget Celtic warrior. Given our ancestry I suppose that's an option, although I notice everyone claims that there ancestors were warrior or kkings, and no one wants to own up to being the descendant of the guy who got thrown out of the village for buggering sheep. Well, neither do I, so as far as you're concerned, my kid was right on with the blue war paint, and we are descended from the ancient Irish kings. Pogue mahon if you don't like it. 10 points to those who know what that means. Points are not negotiable and have no cash value. Void in Illinois, Guam and where prohibited by law.

Where was I?

Ah, yes. Today we prepare the little tykes for school, which involves the foricible eviction of #1 son from his bed. After getting dressed and coming downstairs, I notice both his eyes are swollen. It looks like we've been slapping him silly. It turns out that the dye they used is causing an allergic reaction on his face, and the previously blue design is now outlined in red, puffy tissue. Naturally, we laughed.

The situation reminded me of a time years ago, pre-children, when my wife and I were up very late in our bedroom doing the sorts of things that two people who love each other very much and are committed as a couple do. Other people do not and should not be allowed to do these things. So the lights are out and it's pitch dark and the wife heads for the bathroom and WHAM!! headfirst into the door. For the next week, until the bruise faded, if someone asked her what happened she would look fearfully at me and say "I walked into the door." I still can't believe no one kicked my ass.

But the best, or worst of those situations, happened to my friends "Mike" and "Julie". (Note that I've used their real names on the theory that no one will ever track them down that way since no one will believe that I would use their real names.) "Julie" played rugby in college, apparently head first, and broke her nose at least once. By the time she got to law school she couldn't really breathe that well, and unlike my son she apparently didn't want a blue face. So about two weeks after she starts dating "Mike", "Julie", (shhh, they'll never know), has surgery to correct her deviated sinus something-or-other. What she didn't tell anyone was that this involved rebreaking her nose and then resetting it correctly. So she comes back with two ENORMOUS black eyes and a splint on her nose. "Mike" took one look at her and said they were breaking up for the next 2-4 weeks. Which was totally uncalled for because no one who knew them would believe for a minute that he would have one a fight with her if she closed her eyes and spotted him two jabs and a hook.

So I was thinking of that while I waitied for a call from the cops to come home and explain my son's face, but that never happened and the school told us to use hydrocortisone and he'll be fine. Assuming of course, that I don't bruise him while holding him down to get the hydrocortisone on his face in the first place.