Trampoline Trauma

Last week I was blogging about pet peeves. Here is one I have about myself: Why do I laugh when I see someone get hurt? I'm not such a bad person that I laugh when blood and extreme pain are involved, but sometimes it's pretty funny when I see someone injure him/herself. Why do I do that? It annoys me, but darn it, I can't help it sometimes.

Case in point-today at my parents' house Elizabeth had been begging Edward to bounce her on the trampoline. Finally he was ready after what seemed like an eternity to Elizabeth. He ran out to the trampoline and took a flying leap without using his hands. That was pretty impressive. Before Elizabeth had time to get on, Edward started jumping as high as he could. And let me tell you, he was going HIGH. Unfortunately on the fourth jump, things took a turn for the worse. He jumped WAY too close to the edge and lost control. It looked like slow motion (later he told me it felt like slow motion too). The poor guy had one foot go off the trampoline and one foot go through the springs. He landed on the metal bar, his legs dangling on either side. Luckily (if I dare use that word) he was leaning back a bit, so his tailbone took the brunt of the impact. As he waddled in the house, I was telling myself, "Don't laugh. Don't laugh." I couldn't even open my mouth to say anything. I saved the laughing until after the door closed. When I could finally compose myself I was able to go in and ask if he was alright. When he was able to get his breath back, he told me it hurt - pretty bad. I couldn't hold my giggles in any longer. I have to say Edward is so gracious to my insensitive laughing. He laughed right along with me.

The poor guy had an ice pack down his pants for the rest of the night and has been pumping ibuprofen like it's candy. He's set his alarm clock for 2:00 a.m. so he can stay on top of the pain.

I told him I'd go to the pharmacy and pick up a donut cushion if he wanted. He sits at work nearly all day, so it was the least I could do. After getting to Walgreens I wondered, where would one find a hiney donut cushion? I giggled some more at the thought of asking an employee. I did a couple of laps at the store without success, so I did have to go find someone. Guess what? The employee that I found goes to church with us. That made me giggle even more as I felt the need to describe a little of the incident. In fact, I'm still giggling as I type this. Shame on me!

To make the situation worse, Edward is flying out to Salt Lake City on Friday to drive his youngest sister home from college. They will be making the 20 hour drive in two days. He'd better pack his donut.

Up Close & Personal With a Dead Cat

We spend every Sunday evening at my parents home for dinner. One Sunday a month my 95-year-old great grandma joins us. Today was our day with Grandma. When it was time for her to go home, Drew decided he wanted to ride along with my parents to take Grandma home. Apparently, he got an eyeful of dead cat at her house.

My dad was in Grandma's backyard fixing something while Drew played close to him. Dad heard Drew say, "That's really freaking me out." Dad asked, "What?" as he continued with his chore. Drew replied, "That. And it's teeth are scary." Dad decided he'd better investigate and found a dried up cat carcass in Grandma's backyard.

I asked Drew what it looked like, and he said it was brownish black and it's mouth was open revealing it's teeth. Earlier when Dad gnashed his teeth to demonstrate to Mom & Grandma, Drew told him with a straight face, "I can see your nose hair."

Drew also told me it smelled so bad that it smelled "worse than dead fish." That must have been pretty bad. I asked him how he thought it had died. He told me he was pretty sure a dog ate it and then spit it back out. He then proceeded to get a stuffed dog and demonstrate.

That was the highlight of his day.

*P.S. I think this picture is so funny. But what wacko would have thought to make that sign? Funny.