(no subject)
Mar. 24th, 2004 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silverfae9When the older of my two brothers, now 12, was 4 or 5, he hit himself in the face with a golfclub. There were stucco walls in our front yard, you see, and Ryan was standing behind one swinging a golf club back and forth in some game that only he understood. He got a little too close to the wall and the club ran into it, bouncing back and splitting open his face right above his right eye. We dissolved into little puddles of laughter when he ran inside, blood mingling with the tears and snot all streaming down his face, and told us what had happened. It was rotten and mean of us, sure, but...it was unbelievably funny.
Later, at the hospital being stitched up, a nurse asked Ryan the standard questions to make sure it wasn't child abuse. Who hit you in the face? The golf club hit me in the face. Turned out we weren't the only mean laughing people that day.
But you would figure that hitting yourself in the face with a golf club wouldn't be something that happens often. There's something tricky with the combination of the length of the club and the length of your arm. So you can imagine my extreme amusement when I heard today that my other brother, the 9 year old, managed to hit himself in the face with a golf club yesterday at the golf course with my dad. No stitches, fortunately, were needed this time. I'm not sure exactly how it happened because the conversation revolved, mainly, about what it is with my brothers, their faces, and golf clubs.
Later, at the hospital being stitched up, a nurse asked Ryan the standard questions to make sure it wasn't child abuse. Who hit you in the face? The golf club hit me in the face. Turned out we weren't the only mean laughing people that day.
But you would figure that hitting yourself in the face with a golf club wouldn't be something that happens often. There's something tricky with the combination of the length of the club and the length of your arm. So you can imagine my extreme amusement when I heard today that my other brother, the 9 year old, managed to hit himself in the face with a golf club yesterday at the golf course with my dad. No stitches, fortunately, were needed this time. I'm not sure exactly how it happened because the conversation revolved, mainly, about what it is with my brothers, their faces, and golf clubs.
