Head Bump

My kids and I were in a cabin in Big Bear.  We were having a fun family vacation and I was proud that I was able to take them there by myself, find the cabin, take them snowboarding and enjoy their company by a cozy fireplace along with my home cooking every evening. 

I liked to get up early so I could exercise, shower and get breakfast started before anyone awoke.  Standing under the shower that morning, I leaned over for the wash rag.  The tub was slippery and before I knew it, I was pitching forward, arms flailing for balance.  I try to imagine what I must have looked like:  naked, wet body, feet flying out from under me, arms waving spastically. Not pretty.  I grabbed the shower curtain which crashed down with me as I fell face forward, smacking my forehead with a sickening thud against the closed toilet lid.  Ouch.  This seemed bad.  Was I dead?

After writhing in pain for some time, I stumbled out of the tub and looked at my face in the mirror.  You know those cartoons where someone gets hit on the head and a huge lump immediately appears?  Well guess what?  It really happens.  A large, red lump was swelling before my eyes right in the middle of my forehead.  Very attractive.  Oh yeah, and it really, really hurt.

It seemed serious.  Was I going to die?  What if I blacked out?  I was the only parent, the only one in charge.  What would happen to my kids?

Over the next few hours, my face sprouted annoying patches of jaundice yellow and festive black and blue circles around my eyes.  I looked like I’d been beaten.

Later, my sweet, sensitive son said, “Yeah I heard you fall.” 

“Well why didn’t you come check on me?” 

“I was tired.”

The Blob

It all started out so innocently, just a group of coworkers sitting around a large conference room table which served as our lunch break area.  An assortment of brown bags and lunch pails was strewn before us as we politely munched on sandwiches and discussed a variety of subjects. 

One 60ish gentleman was talking animatedly about something when he paused to blow his nose.  He honked noisily into his handkerchief, then wadded it in a ball, stuffed it in his pocket, and continued his speech, engaging eye contact with everyone around the room.  The rest of us sat there in frozen horror.  None of us knew what to do, for there, on the tip of the man’s rather large nose, was a perfectly round, large blob of something that had somehow missed his handkerchief. 

It was so large it couldn’t be missed, and seemed to take on a life of its own, bobbing up and down with every movement of the man’s head.  Clearly he thought he had our undivided attention, as we were all too stunned to move or look away, and he talked on and on for what seemed like an eternity.  I’m sure we all wanted to say something to stop this embarrassing display, but we were too shocked or revolted to do anything other than stare at the blob at the end of the man’s nose.  It was round and white and glistened in the sun shafting through the window.  I had no idea what the man was saying and could no longer focus on anything except the large, gelatinous blob dancing around the room.  Was the man still talking or had the blob taken over the conversation? I’m not sure, but this happened over 30 years ago and still sticks (ick) in my mind.