A few years ago, my husband and I were rushing out of our house to go somewhere thrilling and romantic, like a little league meeting. As we headed toward the front door, we heard a shriek from upstairs, and 6 year old Lucas screeching, “I’m bleeeddiinnggg!!!!”
Like I good mother I sighed deeply, rolled my eyes, and trudged upstairs to see what the problem was. I followed the cries into the bathroom, where I found Lucas, naked, shivering and wet, bleeding profusely from his shin.
ME: *concerned* “What happened???” (wondering if he had fallen getting out of the shower)
LUCAS: “I don’t knooowwwwww!!!!!” He wailed, completely distraught.
ME: “You don’t know?” *staring suspiciously at him*
LUCAS: “It just started bleeeedddddddiinggggg!!” he shivered.
ME: “So, you’re saying it just spontaneously burst?”
At this point my husband had put him up on the counter and was blotting the wound. It looked suspiciously like the leg of a pre-teen girl, experimenting with shaving her legs for the first time.
ME: *squinting even more suspiciously* “Did you try to shave your legs?”
LUCAS: *indignant* “Nooo! It just …happened!”
My husband reached into the shower, grabbed my teenage daughter’s razor, and began pulling a thin sheet of bloody skin from the blades.
ME: “You DID try to shave your legs!”
LUCAS: *shaking head back and forth in denial* “No, I didn’t!”
LUCAS: *lower lip quivering* “Well, my legs are so HAIRY!!! Waaahhhhhhhhh!”
It’ll be a very long time before that boy ever decides to shave.