Monday, March 31, 2014

Of broken hammocks and bloody noses

DH found my old Skychair in the garage this past weekend, and set it up in the globe willow out back as a surprise for me.  I hadn't see it since we moved to Texas, so I had forgotten how comfortable it could be.

The Monkeys are not allowed to play in the Skychair.  Being children, they felt this was totally unfair!  So Sunday, they decided to make their own hanging chair, out of a plastic tarp and some cheap paracord knockoff.  I knew this was inherently not a good plan, but in trying to allow my kids some of the freedom to both fail and learn like DH and I enjoyed in our own childhoods, I did not ban the activity.  I did however tell them to remove the pungi stakes and buckets from beneath the contraption!  This proved to be a wise decision.

The kids were fond of laying down, horizontal, inside the suspended tarp.  Then they would have another child spin them around and 'round, winding up the nylon cord.  This was done to the point you couldn't spin it tighter and then you let the spinnee go, and with a couple pushes to make it go faster, they'd unwind!  I remember having fun like this as a kid...but as an adult, I am well familiar with Gravity.  It's not just a good idea, it's the LAW!

So, when the nylon cordage gave up the ghost, our youngest, Monkey3 was inside the tarp spinning merrily around, approximately 3ft off the ground, lying on her belly.  When physics and Murphy took over, of course she fell.  Not content to do a belly flop on the hardpacked Texas soil, no, not her!  She opted instead to do a face plant, landing on her unscarred facial appendage (the nose, not the chin).

Thus erupted the fountain of red hydraulic fluid, otherwise known as blood.  Some howls of A-GON-EEE were heard by DH inside, and another Monkey came in to confirm the injury.  By the time DH got there, the hydraulic fluid was leaking at a high rate of speed, though not the arterial spray one would assume from the howls of A-GON-EEE!  Wisely determining a neck tourniquet was contraindicated, he led her inside to get inspected, and repaired as needed.

The trail of blood led across the back yard, across the new paver patio, through the kitchen, past the play area and living room, down the hallway (yes that is a bloody handprint from Monkey3 on my wall), across my carpet in the bedroom, and finally all over the master bath floor!  Thank goodness for linoleum and laminate flooring.  Apparently it was all quite dramatic....and red.

By the time I got home from my ride, most of the mess had been cleaned up.  Oh there's still splatter here and there to be found and scrubbed I'm sure.  But the important thing is, my Monkey3 is ok.  No busted nose, no chipped or broken teeth, not even any real bruises to show for it all.  She wasn't even crying when I rode up.

DH was happy to sing her the family injury song too.  For those who haven't heard it, here is Rex Wells doin' it proud.

1 comment:

  1. That is funny and so typical of kids! "Blood? What blood?" *ha ha* I would just have soon died than admit to injury when I was that age. I'm glad there where no serious injuries. ~:)


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