Is full of grace. Unfortunately, I was born on a Thursday.
I have a little bit of a black eye. How’d I get it? I’m the masked avenger. No? You don’t believe that one? How about I gave it to myself? Yep, I did it. But it wasn’t my fault.
I was drying off from my shower, minding my own business, humming happily as I do on occasion when all of the sudden there was this horrendous caterwauling in the hall right outside the bathroom door. The little boys, Harry and Quinn, were screaming like they were at each other’s throats about to do serious bodily harm. The towel slipped away from my thumb and my nail caught the top of my cheek just beneath my eye. Hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, let me tell you.
After I determined that the walls weren’t spattered with blood, I stood, still dripping, swearing in a way that would have made my Marine father proud coming from anyone other than his daughter, looking in the mirror at the bright red streak below my eye that made me look as if I’d been in a tussle. Either a not bad one or one that I’d won. I prefer the second. And then I laughed. Only me, right?
So after I got dressed, I cornered the boys who were by then lounging on the porch together peacefully, giving me their matching “yeah, whatever, you’re scaring away the birds” stares and spouted off lecture #834 on crying wolf. Then I iced my face down, decided it wasn’t that bad and went merrily on my way to the grocery store. Hm, guess it was that bad because the entire time I was getting those non-look looks. You know what I mean. The ones where people peek without looking directly at you.
Back home, I practiced my “go ahead, I dare you to ask” stare. Got it down nicely too. If anyone had actually asked I was fully prepared to answer that I have a black eye because I do and leave it at that. Fortunately, or not, it’s not an issue because today it’s just a small red mark and is barely noticeable.
My secret life as the masked avenger is still safe.
I have a little bit of a black eye. How’d I get it? I’m the masked avenger. No? You don’t believe that one? How about I gave it to myself? Yep, I did it. But it wasn’t my fault.I was drying off from my shower, minding my own business, humming happily as I do on occasion when all of the sudden there was this horrendous caterwauling in the hall right outside the bathroom door. The little boys, Harry and Quinn, were screaming like they were at each other’s throats about to do serious bodily harm. The towel slipped away from my thumb and my nail caught the top of my cheek just beneath my eye. Hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, let me tell you.
After I determined that the walls weren’t spattered with blood, I stood, still dripping, swearing in a way that would have made my Marine father proud coming from anyone other than his daughter, looking in the mirror at the bright red streak below my eye that made me look as if I’d been in a tussle. Either a not bad one or one that I’d won. I prefer the second. And then I laughed. Only me, right?
So after I got dressed, I cornered the boys who were by then lounging on the porch together peacefully, giving me their matching “yeah, whatever, you’re scaring away the birds” stares and spouted off lecture #834 on crying wolf. Then I iced my face down, decided it wasn’t that bad and went merrily on my way to the grocery store. Hm, guess it was that bad because the entire time I was getting those non-look looks. You know what I mean. The ones where people peek without looking directly at you.
Back home, I practiced my “go ahead, I dare you to ask” stare. Got it down nicely too. If anyone had actually asked I was fully prepared to answer that I have a black eye because I do and leave it at that. Fortunately, or not, it’s not an issue because today it’s just a small red mark and is barely noticeable.My secret life as the masked avenger is still safe.
7 comments:
Oh hush. But that's fun nonetheless.
oh, i have a funny black eye story! My mother in law slipped on that yellow 'no skid' paint that they use on parking lots and smacked her face on a pole at BJ's (that is not the funny part). She got a hell of a shiner and even had bruises on her ribs. A few nights later her cats triggered the house alarm and the cops showed up. She assured the police men that no one was there and she was not being held under durress, all while they stared openly shocked at her black and blue face. And she happened to be sleeping in her House of Ruth shirt which is a shelter for abused women and children where she has volunteered. Needless to say, they did not leave until they had checked the entire house from top to bottom and were sure she was just clumsy and half asleep.
Hope your eye is all better and tell those boys to behave! But hey, I have always wanted a shiner. I think I'd look sexy with one. Like a girl version of Fight Club.I bet you do, too ;)
XOXO
S
Ahhh. Sorry about the boo boo. I'd stick with the masked avenger story. It sounds so exciting and mysterious.
Sigh. Barb, Barb, Barb... I just can't take you anywhere!
Whew! I was worried your real life identity would come out.
I love you! LOL, I thought I was the only one who gave themselves black eyes. I too have hit myself in the face hard enough to bruise myself. I have also hit the Mr. while sleeping hard enough to bruise him as well.
I am a ninja in my sleep. It rocks.
I'm glad you are okay and that the kitties are somewhat getting along now.
XoXoXo
Dakota Rebel
LOL. How clever of you to think of a way to keep your secret identity in tact!! Catwoman has nothing on you.
Post a Comment