Today was kind of a funny day. It started out great: we gathered up the kids and some cash and hit the Farmer’s Market. While there I enjoyed the purchase and consumption of Rosa’s Mexi-Cart’s tamales (these things are fabulous) then stopped for a baked good from the Pane D’Amor booth (for the kids) and finally a fresh strawberry smoothie (please do email my husband and let him know that $4 for a 12 oz. ALL ORGANIC and local smoothie is not in fact a ridiculous price). We hit the park and the rec center – air hockey and ping pong – then finally headed home.
Then my son poked me in the eye so hard I couldn’t see and started crying and writing in agony immediately.
Yeah, he hate-fucked my eye. Scratched it, bad. Not the eyelid or anything. The eyeball. A giant, red scratch. Agony to move. Tearing up, over and over, throughout the day.
For anyone who knows me they know that I have never been to the opthalmologist or an optometrist or any other eye care professional is precisely because I don’t want people to fuck with my eye. Do not touch my eye. Do not say, “Oh, you have an eyelash!” and make a move for my eye. Let me know if you’re planning on messing with my eye and I might say yes, I might say no. First of all, eyes are gross and probably germy; secondly, do not touch my eye or eye area.
You know, this whole episode really indicates to me how impressive our reflexes are, for the most part. I mean the worst I’ve ever experienced in my life is something that gets in your eye and hurts long enough you have to find a mirror and remove some tiny speck (whereas my brother once got an entire paper airplane stuck in his eye and the funniest part is, he couldn’t even see it – and I am not making this up). I really don’t know where my body and my reflexes were when Nels snuggled up to me, aimed, and jabbed his dirty fingernail directly into my eyeball. I have long suspected he is actually faster than the speed of light (oh, on Friday he had his first successful incident of darting into the street without being stopped by an adult, did I tell you that?) and this incident supports the theory.
Oh, and finally some advice – if you do have a problem with your eye do not go to the WebMD site to see if you should go to the hospital because if you weren’t already on the verge of throwing up / passing out, then reading the eye trauma diagnostic queries (Does someone who can answer “Yes” to the question “Has your eye moved downward in its socket?” really need someone to tell them to get medical attention?) will surely get you there.
As I type this I am still in a lot of pain but (thanks to a call to my PA) going to tough it out and see how things are in the morning. If you see me sporting a patch, don’t laugh. I’m in a lot of pain.