Monday, May 30, 2011
(Father) Painful Lesson
Doesn't this look nice? So relaxing and peaceful. This position would be anything but relaxing at my house. There is absolutely no good reason on God's green earth to be on my back inside my home with two boys. It doesn't matter where they are in the house, how interested they are in the toys they are playing with, or if they even know I'm in the house to begin with. They will run, they will jump, and they will land on my scrotum. It has happened too many times for me to think it's a fluke.
It used to be, "Hey dad!"
"Here I come!"
I would act scared, they would laugh, run, and jump to my "prepared for impact" body. That wore off pretty quick. So the stealth attacks started to happen to my "not so prepared for impact" body. That proved to be a lot funnier.
Even if it isn't my scrotum none of the landing spots are a great alternative. An untightened stomach takes a while to recover from. Especially after I have just eaten. The problem is I would most likely be on my back for a more comfortable position after eating too much.
You may think, "Children cannot jump that high so how bad can it be?" I'm here to tell you. A 40 pound cement bag dropped from 2 inches still hurts. Then you add bony appendages from that cement bag. A couple of elbows and a head butt make the impact more of a buckshot than a bullet.
To see me in pain is to add joy to my children's life. Either they think I'm joking or it doesn't really matter. And I'm either too shocked or hurt to respond with any kind of punishment. I just groan and do my best to regroup. Meanwhile, they are cackling a half an inch away from my face with spittle spewing into my eyes and mouth. A simple act of adding insult to injury. I have to then take my hands away from my scrotum and put them to my face to act as a spit shield.
Let's assume the impact wasn't that bad. I get a knee to the chest. But at some point Fire must get up. And if he is on my body then I am his platform. And when Fire gets up he must press down on a certain place in order to gain leverage to pull himself into a standing position. That may also be my scrotum since I have put my hands to my face to act as the spit shield and left myself unprotected. I have learned that the after landing is simply the eye of the hurricane. As soon as Fire has regained his feet he has landed on me again. If he has really hurt me then this might happen 3 more times before I get to my knees. Beast has almost certainly heard the commotion by now and has already given me his own 5 drop kicks to go along with Fire's beatings. It's not that unlike a mobster movie where Vinny hasn't paid off his debt to "Big Jim" Colosimo and the boys have come to break my knees for payment. I'm covering myself up just hoping it will end soon.
But let's say I gain a wild hair and start to playfully fight back. 30 seconds later and one of them is screaming in pain. I'm the one with bleeding scratch marks on my neck but Daisy runs to the child that hurt his knee while kicking my face. Then I sulk away feeling guilty for hurting one of my dear precious little boys. That is, until I make the mistake of lying on my back again. In fact, I wonder how fast Fire's little owie would heal if I immediately laid on my back. How fast could his little finger find my eyeball? I doubt I could fully lie down flat before a chunk of my eyebrow went missing into Beast's mouth.
I have tried laying on mys stomach but it really doesn't seem to matter. Pain finds me. Or more specifically, Fire finds me from across the room. You would think that by laying down with my sons to play leggos would provide sanctuary for my body. I have found this unwritten rule only applies to the one you are playing with. 2 days ago I was laying on my side with Fire to my right and Beast to my left. It was like some sort of tactical hunt you might see on Animal Planet. Fire distracted me with putting together a pirate ship while Beast speared his head into my stomach.
"Chuckle chuckle.....snort.....chuckle. Hee Hee Hee..........let's do that again!!!" I cover my stomach before then next spear hits me. "NOOOOO" he whines. Almost like I'm trying to keep him from going down the slide one last time before we have to leave the park. So what do I do? After a couple of struggling attempts to try to remove my arm I relent and let him spear me a couple more times. What's a dad if he is not a punching bag. I have to admit I cheated by tightening my stomach muscles. Yeah I know. It's not saying a whole lot is it?