Well, they did it again.
Made a game out of wood and jumping and self-inflicted wounds.
Little did the feudal lords of the middle ages know that their catapulting weaponry would be such a hit in the backyards of the ‘burbs.
While we grown-ups chilled on the deck, sipping our Coke on ice and munching on chicken brats and kettle chips, the boys were gearing up for battle. Actually, J had never heard of a “catapult,” instead thinking he was making a simple machine. Remember those? Inclined plane, pulley, wedge, screw, etc.
“Mom! Look! I created a LEEE-VER!!” He sounded like Bill Nye the Science Guy during 4th hour Biology.
“A what?!” I asked, just to hear him say it again.
If I could zoom in on his shorts you’d see the skulls-with-crossbones sprinkled up and down the legs. How fitting, don’t you think, that he’d spend his time creating dangerous devices with leftover wood and landscaping bricks? He’s clearly ready for some real fun. Bikes are for sissies.
Things got real fun, alright, when his brother joined the party and insisted on shooting plastic toys off the opposite end of the “leeever.” They found an old reflex-checker from a toy doctor’s kit, thinking it would surely fly nicely, getting some “huge air.”
It was at this precise moment that I should have demanded they strap on their helmets or at least some swim goggles. Perhaps the kind of headgear that wrestlers or umpires wear would have worked. But being the stupid encourager of creative-play mom that I am, I didn’t stop them. Not for a helmet, not for the goggles. Even though M is drawn to accidents like moths to flame. And sadly, this day was no exception. Enjoy the accident in slow motion below:
OK. I have to stop the show for a second and explain. I never thought the board would actually flip up and smack M in the face. Of course not. I mean, what kind of mother lets her children reconstruct Medieval war tools in the backyard and actually thinks it’s cute? [At least, in the beginning it was cute. When it was just a “leeever” and not a weapon of mass destruction.]
So here’s my poor M after going inside and being soothed by a warm bath, fresh PJ’s and a bedtime smack SNACK–did I say “smack’?!
It reminds me of that scene in Tommy Boy when Chris Farley asks Richard [David Spade] if there’s a mark on his face, while motioning dramatically with his hands:
Tommy: Richard, do I have a mark on my face? It really hurts.
Richard: Nope, nothing. I thought I hit you on the shoulder.
Tommy: My shoulder doesn’t hurt very much, but my face does.
[points to huge bruised area on his face]
Tommy: Right here. Not here or here so much. Right here.
Richard: Nope. Ship shape! Waitress, can I get that shrimp cocktail I saw in the glass case?
Helen: Yep. And you, what can I get…
[pauses and looks at Tommy’s face]
Helen: [**], what happened to your face?
Tommy: I knew it!
This time we were all witnesses, and we don’t need Helen to tell us.
YES. There is a mark.
Thank you, levers and simple machines everywhere, but there will be no more Medieval War Games at our house.