As The World Turns Part 2
This week has been one of many mundane blog posts. I haven’t written anything too meaty, but it’s not for lack of trying. I have about ten windows open for blogs that I’ve started and can’t seem to get to because crazy stuff just keeps happening around here. Not that you really want to read about these day-to-day developments. Unfortunately for you, I have to write about them just to keep my sanity. Yesterday was more of the same.
It started out as a pretty normal day. My daughter went off to a friend’s cottage. My older son spent the day practising his singing, which after about three or four hours, sounded a lot like someone torturing a hyena. There was some working out to be had. My husband didn’t get home until late. We ate healthy, even though I really wanted to make and inhale and entire cheesecake.
One of my younger son’s BFF’s came home from a scouting trip to Peru, which he told us all about. They walked the Inca trail and climbed through the Andes mountains, and only one person got violently ill from altitude sickness. He brought my son home a hat – which he proudly bartered down to half price. It is made of “skins”. Really, it’s just leather, but “skins” sounds so much more exotic.
Of course, the boys had to go out last night to celebrate his return. All was calm. Then, at about 3 a.m. I heard the door slam. The boys were back. “Mom, Mom…I’m turning the light on…” They were both standing in our bedroom.
“No don’t,” my husband yelled. From all these years of being on call, I think he sleeps with one eye open. “Keep the light off, or I’ll kill you.”
“OK well, you need to wake up. Declan (not my son’s friend’s name, but a suitable substitute) nearly got stabbed.”
“What?” All of a sudden, we were both semi-awake. I won’t say wide awake because that would’ve only happened had the police shown up. Don’t laugh, it’s happened before, but that’s another story.
“Yeah, some guy pulled a knife on him.”
Declan stepped forward. “I was walking near the bus station downtown, and this guy came up and asked me for money. I said I didn’t have any but he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. When he pulled out a knife, I thought the reasonable thing to do was to get out of there, so I jumped over the wall behind me. It was three tiers down and pretty steep. I must’ve landed the wrong way, and I did something to my foot.”
“Can you walk on it?” I asked. My husband had fallen back asleep – sort of. Unless there was blood or a bone sticking out, there was no way he was getting up.
“Yeah, I walked for about two kilometres more to get home,” said Declan.
“If you went home, then why are you here now?”
“Charles picked me up. I don’t want to face my parents in the morning.”
“Oh, I see.” And that’s how it ended. The two boys then went downstairs probably to play Halo (or some other stupid video game) until dawn.
It is now morning. Declan is lying on my couch with an ice pack on his foot. My son is with him and has just announced, “We’re going to Sky Zone later.” (You need to read my post from yesterday to understand the ridiculousness of this statement.) WTF? As if. His own foot is still swollen and sore. I swear the boy is not right in the head sometimes.
The conversation has now randomly turned to other potential and one very real stabbing. And finally – before I completely tune out and go upstairs to get ready for my workout – I hear this…
“I don’t have any weaknesses.” Yes, it’s my spawn talking. He literally thinks he’s perfect. “The only thing I can’t do is spread peanut butter on bagels. I envy those people at Tim Horton’s who can spread the cream cheese so fast.” I shake my head. I’m glad at least one of my children is overly confident. “Do you remember Swollen Members the band?” he asks. I can just imagine where this is going. God help me.