The other night Tom was out with his varsity scouts at an activity. I was the dutiful wife and meekly stayed home minding the children, cleaning the house and cooking the meals not even once thinking about how much fun Tom always has with the scouts. Anyway, when he got home he was covered with abrasions and bruises and an extremely swollen hand. Oh my gosh! What happened? I had visions of him getting jumped by the proverbial 2 dudes or maybe you fell out of the car? Well...said Tom, You won't believe it but I got this at the scout activity. Hmm, scouts get out of line? Or maybe some scouts annoyed a particularly vicious dog and Tom intervened? No, turns out the activity consisted of teaching the scouts martial arts street fighting. Geez! Those scouts need to remember that you are not 20 anymore. Well, actually, now that you mention it. It wasn't the scouts. See, the teacher had a blow up doll and we each had to take a turn beating it up. I took my turn and well, that is how I got these injuries. What? I was amazed. It was all I could do to feign sympathy without cracking up. You mean you got beat up by an inanimate blow up doll? Well the teacher pulled off its arm and hit me with it. Right. That was some vicious doll. At least tell me there were 2 dude blow up dolls. No? You should have stuck with the fell out of the truck story.
Boxer's fracture (I had to hijack a picture of Tom's swollen hand from the web. He wouldn't let me take a picture of it when he came home...I wonder why?) This is what it looked like. Both me and his trauma surgeon scout helper told him he had a boxer's fracture. They hurt like criminy, right Bryan?
Tom's hand 3 days later
You can't see it very well but he has abrasions on his lower legs and feet.
Tom hiding his head in shame.
No comments:
Post a Comment