Some people lead boring mundane lives. I live by stumbling from one minor emergency to another. Don’t get me wrong, not complaining. A never ending string of small emergencies is better than one huge one. But it does wear me down. Last week was a long sequence of weird stuff happening, and I was at the end of my rope. Then this happened.
Gordon, Kid 1, and I are eating breakfast. My phone rings.
Me: Yes? :puts call on speaker:
Kid 2: Look at my eye.
Picture of incredibly red eye.
Kid 2: I was asleep and D. (boyfriend) flailed because he had a bad dream and scratched my eye. Now it hurts, it’s red, it keeps crying, and the light hurts it.
Me: Oh my fucking god.
Kid 1: Hahahahahahaha! That’s the first time I heard you swear like that. We finally did it. We broke mom.
Kid 1: Ow!!! %^$ &*&*&!!!
Me: What is it?
Kid 1, crawls out of her room onto the catwalk, sits on the floor, and rocks back and forth clutching her face.
Me: What did you do?
Kid 1: I was folding laundry on my bed, and a sock fell, and I bent down, and hit a corner of the bed with my eye.
Me: You are 23 years old. How?
Kid 1: The duvet covered the bed and I thought it was the mattress but it was a corner of the bed. I’m going to have a black eye. ::thinks about it; her face lights up:: I’m going to tell people you beat me.