Check Your Head

I have been informed by the management that my entries have become bitter and cynical, and that if I don't pick it up, I'm going to have to find a new publisher. So here's one about ramming your head into things.

In the past 72 hours, three of the four members of our household have rammed their heads into various things around our house. (Let the record show that she whose head has not yet been bashed is the same individual who's griping about my blog writing abilities.)

It started a couple of nights ago when I was doing dishes. I opened the cupboard door above our dishwasher to put some glasses away, bent down to get more clean glasses, and then BAM. Full speed with the top of my head into the corner of the newly opened cabinet door. The corner dug in and then dragged along my scalp a little ways, insuring maximum bloodletting.

As the kids watched, I danced and jumped around the first level of our house, all the while holding my head and yelling everything that wasn't an obscenity. At one point, I yelled, "This is gonna be a mess!" based on the excruciating pain.

Strangely, I kept waiting for the inevitable gush of blood, but it never came. I took a look in the bathroom mirror, and I couldn't even SEE where I had cut myself. Erin, in between fits of giggling, was able to locate the gash, but unfortunately it wasn't nearly as severe as my dancing and shouting had indicated. In the end, it did leave a whopper of a knot, and I can no longer lay the right side of my scalp against a pillow (or my desk).

Not 24 hours later, Grace lost her footing due to a book left on the faux-wood floor in our kitchen and introduced her forehead to the corner of the wall. Wailing ensued, but again, no blood.

And finally, Grant snagged the corner of the banister on the top of his head last night. I couldn't have been more proud, as he danced and wailed...just like his old man. The only difference was that Grant's dance also involved the use of a sword, as most things do with him these days.

So that's three heads in three days. So honey, to quote Cheap Trick, -- tonight it's you.