I was part of a movement of "dinosaur moms" when I lived in Maryland (Astrodon Johnstoni is the Maryland state dinosaur.) Which is nothing more than this -- dinosaur moms delight in the half-feral nature of the beasties they parent, even as they whisper Shakespeare and Kierkegaard in their ears at night.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Blood on the Saddle
Y'see, Jones used to have asthma. So we moved to the desert for the dry air. And now he has nosebleeds.
Big epic nosebleeds. Entirely my fault, really. Well, or my father's, truth be told. His father's, I shouldn't wonder. Asian nose. Teeny Asian nose. Tinse. It's exacerbated by the fact that he's not very cool about it. Despite our protests, he can't help but hork the whole nasty back up his nose until forced to sneeze a blood-booger-bomb the size of an everlasting gob-stopper onto innocent passers-by, such as, for instance, his mother.
We are comforted by the fact that, alarming as these attacks might be for the innocent passer-by, such as, for instance, his mother, there is no loss of any real volume of blood during a nosebleed. And it's just as well Jones face these inevitable occurrences with good humor.
So, apparently, he got one of these monster nosebleeds during an otherwise uneventful bath. And, being the delightful scamp that we know and love, he decided to make a, well, is there any other word for it than "bloodbath"? Oh, just when you think you have seen everything, that surely there can't be any undiscovered territory of gross and disgusting yet to be explored, "Eureka!" shouts your son.