So, I'm chatting on the phone with my Dad, after I'd just sent my kids outside to "PLAY!!!" I'd basically had to scream at them to go outside and "PLAY!!!" and then my phone rang and I had to act all normal on the phone.
Not seven seconds later I hear screaming and crying and I'm all "Gotta go" and Dad's all "Gotcha" and I run to the back door. Boy is collapsed by the door holding his finger screaming the high-pitched scream one makes when one slams a door on one's finger. It's got a certain pitch to the scream. We all know it. And if you haven't heard it, you'll instinctively recognize it the first time you do. It's like a primitive recognition thingy programmed into our minds from our monkey ancestors who'd slam their fingers in rocks trying to crack open nuts, or something...I think.
When I get there, Girl is standing there, and I say "Honey? Run and get me a baggie of ice!!" and she's off!! She comes back a moment later with a large, and I mean LARGE bag of full size ice cubes, and she' standing at the top of these 3 stairs that we have leading into our family room. And Boy and I are WAY across the room. Before she comes to bring me the ice, I also ask her to bring me a damp paper towel, because Boy's finger is bleeding, and that's REALLY freaking him out. Girl says "OK!" and I turn my attention back to boy.
Now. I know she was trying to be helpful. I know she was trying to speed up the process of first aid. I get it. She's a helper. She was panicked. There was screaming and blood. But I didn't see it coming. I didn't see her throw the GIANT ZIPLOCK BAGGIE FILLED WITH FULL SIZED ICE CUBES ACROSS THE ROOM to us. I didn't see it coming. Her aim, I'm sure, was to land neatly at my side. Bag intact. She put her back into it. A lot of effort.
What actually happened, is, it came full speed at the side of my head, hitting me like a sack of rocks across the lower part of my eyesocket. The bag of ice exploded on impact. I saw the stars. I saw the birds. And when I opened my eyes, I saw my cheekbone swelling out. I saw the look of "HOLY SHIT" on Girl's face. Boy was still in the process of screaming. I was dazed. I was. I didn't know what to do first. Boy? Girl? Me?
He was still freaking, she was emotionally scarred, and my face was swelling and I could feel a little wetness of blood on it as well. We were all just collapsed by the backdoor in one giant mess. It was just like, What the HELL? How weird is this shit??
Ok. So, I picked up the ice. Boy didn't want the ice. Didn't want the paper towel for that matter.
I pulled him on my lap. I held the ice to my face, and told Girl it worked out anyways!! She looked like she wanted to barf. I FELT like I wanted to barf. She said "I did more harm". Which was quite dramatic in a sad kind of way..I said "This is going to be a very funny story at some point..." She didn't look too sure..
She meandered outside. But she was going to be OK.
Boy and I sat. Husband walked in 2 minutes later, I'm sure thinking "What the Hell goes on when I'm gone?"
After explaining things to him...his first comment to me was, "yeah, wow, I bet that hurts." His second comment was "I don't want to go out in public with you so people don't think I'm beating you up."