I’m telling you, it’s THEM

There’s no other way to say this: My two sons are trying to do me in! Or maybe just maim me.

I’ve tried not to come to this conclusion, but after this last incident and the type of clarity that only comes with excruciating pain – there is no other answer.

All accusations need proof – so here’s mine:

  • Q: When I crashed into the back of a bike, fell off my bike and busted both knees down to the white meat – whose bike was it that stopped short?      A: My oldest son’s.
  • Q: When, while running around a playground (hint) and I missed the divot, fell and tore the skin on my left knee, yet again, down to the white meat – who was I playing with? A: Both of my sons.
  • Q: When I was on the snow hill by Soldier Field and fractured my ribs in 3 places – who was cheering me on laughing at me just before I fell off the snowboard?   A: My oldest son.

And just in case you need further proof:

  • Q: When I fell off my bike and gouged my knee YET AGAIN TO THE WHITE MEAT because I was fumbling with a skateboard under my arm; a skateboard that was to be handed over to a certain rider but could not be because the rider walked out of a different door after school so I had to pedal with this awkward plank under my arm because I couldn’t re-rig the backpack to hold it the way I had when I pedaled to the school – Guueesss whose skateboard it was?   A: Yep, my son’s (The youngest one; they’re both in on it I tell ya).

SIDE NOTE: Falling at this age is not a game; it does not include a quick recovery. I'm walking like I've played 6 seasons of pro football.

Okay, FULL DISCLOSURE: I’m not the most graceful person in the world (the boys’ dad calls me a Goofy Cowboy - with love, of course). I used to fall a lot as a kid. I also used to climb, run, jump, tumble and wrestle a lot as a kid. [My Mom finally had to threaten me with punishment to keep me from coming home from school with holes in my pants; pants that were "dry clean only" because that’s what my Dad would buy. She says after the threat the ripped pants stopped – what she doesn’t realize is I stayed frozen on the playground from that point on. *Oh and let me mention the playground was asphalt! Who puts elementary schoolers on asphalt for recess?].

So, while I might have to bear some responsibility for my post-partum falls – I do not dismiss the possibility that my sons are now working with my feet to conspire against me.

I mean, isn’t a little bit curious that all of the kid-related emergencies their Dad’s had to deal with have been the kids actually needing medical attention but all of the kid-related emergencies I’ve had to deal with have involved ME needing the help? *The big guy’s probably in on it, too!

This somewhat active Mom has watched enough CSIs to know where this is headed.

So, I rest my case. THE BOYS ARE OUT TO GET ME!

Just kidding.

(not really)

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