Adventures in Babysitting, Part 2

When I was a kid, if I would complain about, say, a scraped knee, my dad would check it out, apply proper treatment and then send me on my way. Later, when I (invariably) whined about it still hurting, dad would pinch my arm and then ask if my knee still hurt.

Note: I only fell for this a few times before I quit whining to dad.

While slightly sadistic, dad's theory works: new pain makes you forget about existing pain.

When "playing Star Wars" with Spot and Rover, I know I got whacked a few times with the "light sabres" but didn't really pay attention to any of the hits except the blow to the face. It hurt real bad.

It's now, three days later, that I realize I also took a pretty significant blow to the knee and wrist. I recall being hit multiple times in multiple spots, but according to the bright purple bruises on my knee and wrist, those were big hits.

I made sure to show Pickle (who is expecting a boy) my injuries, to let her know what to expect. Or at least, what her nanny can expect.

Adventures in Babysitting

Ok, so I've not yet experienced anything like Elizabeth Shue's famous outing, but I keep hoping that someday I will....

I baby-sit fairly regularly for a local family with two little boys (Spot and Rover) who are pretty much the cutest kids ever. They are smart and funny and well-mannered and really just COOL kids. AND they think I'm cool because I throw baseballs with them and I can beat them at tag but not at Wii Mario Kart.

And sometimes I throw some nerd bits and they love it...like how many Star Wars movies I've seen or anything about Pokemon.

Say all that to say, I really do love hanging out with these kids and I think they dig me too.

So I was baby-sitting last night and they wanted to play Star Wars. On any given day, "playing Star Wars" takes on different meanings (sometimes I get to wear a child-sized storm trooper helmet) but it almost always involves light sabre duels. This time it was decided that two kids vs. me was a fair fight. The older one (Spot) had an actual light sabre toy (that alternates glowing blue and red, depending on the need); the younger boy (Rover) had a blue plastic bat and I had a wooden baseball bat and a wicker clothes hamper lid. (Apparently since I was outnumbered, I got a weapon and a shield).

We fight until someone gets hit five times and then they're dead. Well, in this case, it only took one hit. I took a blow to the face, from a blue plastic bat, despite my stellar hamper and child-sized bat wielding skills. It hurt! I mean, the kid wasnt swinging that hard and it was just plastic, but it hurt! Fortunately my nose didnt start bleeding (or I would have passed out and then it would have been all kinds of trouble) but it hurt.

After that, we only fought one-on-one light sabre duels, tournament style, until I could talk them into playing catch, which proved much safer.

It's been more than 24 hours and my face still hurts. Anytime I move my mouth vigorously or touch my nose for any reason, it really hurts. Dang.