Bruise Brother

October 9, 2013 at 2:04 pm 2 comments

My son needs helmet.

This boy is on nearly a bruise-a-day pace that likely will make him one gigantic brown banana by the time he is six. If it is true that when you break bones they repair themselves and become stronger than before they were broken, my son will look like this when he is ready for college.

Some of these bumps have common causes and I can break down his bruising techniques into basic categories, even giving them Latin names because using Google Translate is fun.

Panic Attack (contusus per terrore aggrediuntur)

Often his bruises really aren’t his fault. For example, he was startled when I emerged from the bedroom pushing a running vacuum. In his panic he turned and ran straight into the wall. This was caused by his love/hate relationship with the vacuum. He loves to turn it on but gets scared by the noise it makes so he runs away as soon as he pushes the button. Consequently, when the vacuum emerged from the room already running and headed toward him he panicked and sought shelter inside the nearest wall. I should have known better.

Assault from Angry Sister (contusus ab irato impetu sororem)

The ongoing struggle for possession of food, toys, and parental attention has brought about many contusions from big sister. She is simply stronger and more coordinated than my boy.

The other day the kids were rough housing and I heard the common *thump* that accompanies their play. Unfortunately, I was indisposed with bathroom responsibilities and it was going to be a while before I could extricate myself. I think my kids have a sixth sense that causes them to get into the most trouble while I am occupied in this manner. Through the bathroom door I called out to my kids to get an assessment of what was happening. From what I could tell it was boy took something from girl, girl got mad and pushed boy, thump and cry.

In my current state there was absolutely no way I could get to the kids to help them sort it out. Since it was little brother who was doing the crying, I asked my daughter “Doodles, can you bring your brother here, please?”

Immediately my son’s crying increased. Then I made a gigantic mistake that escalated the issue. As my son’s crying got louder, my demands that she bring her brother to me got more forceful. Then I heard another thump followed by my boy screaming angrily.

“What’s going on out there?”, I cried. A few seconds later the bathroom door opened and there was my daughter, dragging her brother along the floor by his arm.

“Oh, no no no! Let go of him, please!” I said.

This was the one moment in my my little girl’s life where she chose to do exactly what I asked her to do right when I asked. She let go of his arm and my son’s blond head bounced off of the hardwood floor.

I quietly thanked my daughter for her help.

The Bad Decision (contusus per malos sententia)

When a boy’s curiosity is bolstered by ever-increasing strength and agility, it can lead to some very bad decisions.

We were nearly the end of our lunch at a local sushi spot and at that stage of the meal where he was done being confined by the giant wooden high chair. Instead of sitting quietly in the booth with us he decided to entertain himself by climbing on the outside of the chair. First he put his hands on the top side rail of the chair. Then he put his feet on the bottom side rail of the chair. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming, but suddenly he threw his head back with enough force that the chair tipped back along with him.

I have to hand it to the boy – he hung on for the entire ride. The back of his cranium slammed onto the tile floor a split second before the side rail of the chair landed on his forehead. This was one of those head bashings that had a moment of silence followed by the air raid siren cry of pain. I couldn’t get to him in time because I was on the inside of the booth, with my daughter between me and the toppling tot. I had to watch in dismay as my big son learned another physics lesson.

The Bumbling Monkey (contusus propter defectum coordinatio)

Perhaps his greatest contusional achievement so far happened at a restaurant we frequent. Again it was at the end of the meal and our monkey was bored. He was sitting on the chair next to me when my wife handed him a couple of tiny mints, one of which he immediately dropped. He climbed down from the chair and moved to the side of the table, under which the mint had landed. He quickly leaned forward and bashed his forehead on the table edge. This impact sent him staggering backward where he hit the back of his head on the table across the aisle. Undeterred, he stepped back to our table and this time was smart enough to duck before going under to get the mint. However, the excitement of finally reaching the candy must have forced all reason from his mind for he immediately stood straight up, hitting the back of his head again on the underside of our table.

Three cranial impacts in ten seconds. NFL running backs have it easier than that.

It was shocking to watch him pinball between tables in pursuit of the candy. Once more I have to hand it to my big boy – he didn’t cry. He simply held his head with both hands and wandered back to me in a daze, unsure how his quest for a dropped candy became so painful. He was probably wishing the mint was an aspirin.

A Painful Phase

It must seem grossly unfair to my son that every hard surface in his world is precisely at forehead height. Short of making him a bubble wrap onesie there is little I can do to help. This is a phase all kids and parents must endure. As long as he has arms and legs to propel him to even greater heights I will need to have the Arnica gel close by.

Entry filed under: Being Dad. Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. gbwordboy  |  October 14, 2013 at 5:04 pm

    Oh my…and I’m sure he’ll be inventing new categories on a weekly basis. You sir, are becoming the Carl von Linné of child mishaps!

    Reply
  • 2. Happy Birthday, My Little Man | Hop Dad  |  November 21, 2013 at 12:49 pm

    […] changed from a bumbling toddler into a little boy and engage with the world like a boy should: you bash your head, trip over your own feet, spill drinks, throw food, shout in restaurants, kick your legs while […]

    Reply

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