Jordan plays baseball.
Jordan is a lefty.
This makes baseball coaches very
Jordan plays 1st base.
Not at the same time.
That'd be weird.
I'm not sure which.
Jordan had baseball practice last night whereupon catching a fly ball he failed to see the L screen.
An L screen is that thingybobber that coaches hide behind whilst throwing balls at teenage boys in practice.
This is an L screen.
Please do note that this particular one was constructed out of chain link fence material.
In case you were curious, when one's face runs into the L screen and one's cheek gets punctured by and then subsequently torn by said chain link the result is going to be
it's gonna be ugly.
It'll look somethin like this
At this point I'm just thankful that it didn't rip most of his cheek off.
John helps coach Jason and Jordan's team and had just left practice early to come home and take care of the little kids.
It was my bunko night you see.
Shortly after John walks in the door, which was about 2 minutes after I had applied a shiny new coat of lip gloss as I bounded down the stairs excited about seeing my bunko peeps
The side of the conversation I heard went something like this.
"I guess I'll come pick him up then."
"Alright. Thanks. Bye."
And as I was putting my flip flops between my freshly painted toe nails I slowly watched my bunko plans sadly fade away.
Now let me just hit pause for a minute here and jump in to tell you this:
We have 6 boys.
It's all about as regular as breathing in and out around here.
So my response to this news was simply and calmly this
bring him home, let me see if he really does need stitches.
So John goes back to practice, finds our son laying in the grass, bleeding profusely from the face whilst simultaneously cracking jokes with his teammates who are all hovering around him
and brings him home.
They walk in and, oh yeah, despite it being bunko night AND season finale of Parenthood night....
we definitely need stitches.
~sigh~ I knew girls would've been easier. Don't they like play tea and barbies and stuff?
At this point I feel compelled to share with you that we didn't dash out the door at mach 2 to rush the poor ~ no longer bleeding child to the nearest care center.
He is 13.
He was hungry.
As was my coach of a husband.
They started getting out plates and helping themselves to the dinner that was on the table.
So there I stood.
All dressed up and no place to go.
Watching 7 men devour their dinner.
And ladies....well, there was my bunko posse and yummy bunko food across the street at bunko house and all.....
talk about girl stuff, and they smell good, and they don't burp loudly at the table....
so you can understand that I did what any mother in my position would do....
Whilst the men were back at home with forkfuls of dinner in their mouths I schlepped across the street,
and chatted it up and snacked with my bunko posse
20 minutes later
took him in for stitches.
Don't judge me.
I was hungry.
And I had freshly painted toenails.
So there we sat in urgent care awaiting our turn.
He with his CheezeIt's he brought along for the ride
and I with my flip flops and fresh lip gloss with no where to go.
8 stitches later and we were back home.
And that my friends, is how we roll around here.
and thank goodness they stream those episodes of Parenthood online. Whew.