Posted on 04/07/2017 8:46:21 AM PDT by blueunicorn6
My wife's eye popped out.
No, not this morning. It happened back when she was a kid. It was back in the dark ages. You know.....the 60s.
I had her tell me about it once. Once. I don't remember much about the details except that her mother spit on her eye and pushed it back in.
That's how mothers dealt with medical issues back in the 60s. They spit on it. I fell off the monkey bars once and cracked open my head. They put cement under monkey bars back then. None of that sissy sawdust for us.
"It'll make a man out of you."
That was my Dad's answer for falling off monkey bars and cracking your head. Dad was old school.
I tried to start the house by putting a car key into an electrical outlet once. Once. My mom tried to stop me but not dad.
"No, let him put the key in there. The little shirt will only do it once. Besides, It'll help make a man out of him."
He nicknamed me "Sparky" after that one.
Anyway, the school called my mom after I cracked my head on the cement.
She walked in, looked at me bleeding, and spit on my head. My head healed up fine. I do sometimes repeat myself, though. I do sometimes repeat myself, though.
It is impossible to get any sympathy from a wife whose eye has popped out. We had a really bad ice storm last year. I slipped on the driveway and klunked my noggin. Don't worry, I didn't reopen my old monkey bars wound. A mother's spit is also like the best super glue ever.
I walked back in to the house rubbing my head and swearing. My wife knew something bad had happened. I was rubbing my head. She's used to me swearing when I come in the door.
I sat down and told her what had happened and that my head really hurt.
She said, "So what? My eye popped out once."
That is laying the old Ace of Spades on the table right there. There's no way you can trump that. You best just shut up and suck it up.
I tried a comeback once. She just continued the story.
"I didn't even go to the doctor. My mom just spit on my eye and pushed it back in."
She can throw a wet blanket on a pity party faster than I can fall down on an icy driveway and let me tell you, that is fast.
Oh, I took Judo and I know the right way to fall, but ice is tricky. It didn't bow to me before it put me on my back. Dirty pool.
I didn't slap the ground with my arms. I slapped the cement with my head. Put a good crack in it. The cement, not my head.
So I had to just sit there with my head in my hands, sucking it up.
My wife did finally come over.
She spit on my head. I guess it's a maternal instinct.
She spit on me during our first date, too. It was so romantic. It was a blind date. I couldn't see after she spit in my eye. It wasn't so bad. I was used to women spitting on me. I've had more lady spit on me than all the clarinets in Big Bob's All Girl Band.
Now, my wife just points at her eye when I try to get some sympathy. Sometimes, I can't tell which finger she's using when she points at her eye. It's like some kind of shorthand for her.
"Remember, my eye popped out so I know how it's done and maybe I should just pop you in the eye."
She probably wouldn't even spit on my eye before she pushed it back in.
Uncle Dave's glass eye popped out once at Thanksgiving and the Girl Dog ate it because she thought it was an olive that just might be turkey.
Two days with the pooper scooper following the Girl Dog around until she passed the glass eye. Uncle Dave just spit on it and put it back in. He can truly give you "The Stink Eye".
He claims that he saw everything inside the Girl Dog's digestive tract. He said he saw an, ahem, "Donkeyhole" from the inside. I told him he should be used to seeing "Donkeyholes" since he shaved every morning.
He looked to my wife for some sympathy.
She just pointed at her eye. I won't tell you which finger she used.
When I was a kid, back in the 60’s, a kid I went to school and church with got his eye popped out by getting hit with a baseball bat. He accidentally walked into a bat being swung by another kid during warm-up..................they rushed him to the hospital and put his eye back in and he was okay after that......................
ecause of some sad circumstance, a boy needed a glass eye. His family was poor, they could not afford a real one made of glass. His father did the best he could for his son and carved him an eye out of wood.
The boy suffered socially as a result of his wooden eye. Children teased and taunted him. He had difficulty dating because of that wood eye. He persevered despite the cruelty of his peers.
Then one day he met a wonderful girl. She was all he’d dreamed of, but she had a wooden leg. She too had endured the meanness that teenagers can inflict on one another. Smitten, our young man asked her for a date and she accepted.
The boy and girl had a great time on their date. Things had gone well, it was so nice for each to be with someone who understood what the other had been through. Both made it a point to not even discuss their struggles so they’d both feel comfortable.
At the evening’s end, they returned to the girl’s house. The boy, feeling the date had gone well, boldly asked the girl if she’d like to go out again soon. She smiled and said “would I?” Feeling she was humiliating him as so many others had, the boy yelled back at her “peg leg, peg leg”.
The spit that fixed everything. Some on here need that spit to heal their hurt feelings about the Syria bombing by the United State.
That’s hilarious! I grew up before there were bike helmets. We didn’t care, and Mom didn’t know where we were until we borrowed a neighbor’s phone or came home.
Unless there were copious amounts of blood or a bone sticking out, we took our next turn at bat...
Great write-up. Very well done. Thanks.
Are you a professional writer? If not, you should consider it. You’re like the FReeper version of Dave Barry.
Thanks for a Friday morning smile.
Well done! You’re a veritable Robert Benchley.
Oh, that is a good one.
Gee...and I thought she was just commenting favorably on his woody.
Ha, ha!
I got a gal with just one eye
No depth of field but sweet as pie
And I just don’t careo
If her vision is in stereo
To me she’ll always be the tops
My sweet little cyclops
She’s the one-eye, one-eye, one-eye, one-eye
She’s the one-eye, one I love
Now you might wonder what she’s thinkin’
‘Cause it looks like she is winkin’
In arguments I yell and cry
But she just can’t see the other side
It’s worse than it looks, says her mother
‘Cause she’s blind in one, blond in the other
She’s the one-eye, one-eye, one-eye, one-eye
She’s the one-eye, one I love
Now how it happened, she just won’t spill
Was it scissor sprint or William Tell?
Well the eye got put out and was never found
Gone to take a look around
My Columbo cutie, Popeye punkin’
Sammy Junior, Sandy Duncan
She’s the one-eye, one-eye, one-eye, one-eye
She’s the one-eye, one I love
HEYWOOD BANKS
Mark for later
I have just read many of your "In Forum" FR postings going back a while and all I can say is that you're a great asset to this board in your use of wit, satire, irony, sarcasm, parody, even buffoonery, all of which are among the historic tools of literary writing....especially when employed in your well-done commentary in this forum.
Keep up the good work.
Leni
“Unless there were copious amounts of blood or a bone sticking out, “....
We couldn’t call my mom at work unless somebody was bleeding. My brother broke his arm. I had him sit in a lazy boy and told him to keep his arm still. He stopped crying. I called my mom and said that nobody was bleeding, but Tommy’s arm was hanging funny. She asked if he was crying? No.
Okay,she said, I’ll be home as soon as I get my hair done, then I’ll take him to the Dr. 42 years later, she still places her beauty shop visits above everything.
I thought this was going to be about Mullah Omar.
You made me just about hork my lunch from laughing so hard. I haven’t laughed so hard since I read the one about the man testing the Taser on himself. Thanks for that.
I had to look him up.
I’ve seen him on TCM.
He was a hoot!
OH - that’s good!
You made me remember a story about my younger son and my wife:
My son and his buddy (teenagers at the time) were playing “Nerf” basketball in our game room. You know, the kind with a “Nerf” ball and the basket hangs on top of a closed door.
They were having a dunk contest, and my son’s buddy bounces the ball off the wall above an OPEN door, grabs it, DUCKS to miss the door frame, lands inside the doorway, and jumps to dunk the ball in the basket on the closed door. Pretty cool.
Now, they do this for a while, and my son fails to DUCK properly, slamming his head on the top of the open door’s frame. He’s out cold for a couple of minutes, according to his buddy.
When my son wakes up, he panics and calls my wife. After explaining that he hit his head, he says, “Mom, Chris says I was knocked out for a while. I’m afraid I may have a concussion.”
“Well, you sound OK”, she says. “I’m sure you have a headache. Any blood?”
“No, but I’m dizzy. Ask me some questions to see if I can answer them.”
She replies, “You sound fine. If you can function until I get home, I’ll talk to you then.”
“MOM! C’mon - ask me a question!” - Remember, they are on the phone...
Aggravated, she asks, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
The boys say she’s only funny when she’s mean. :-D
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