I've been skating for most of my life, but I'm still a clutz. Somehow, I think I do ok. Maybe I would really know if someone would summon the balls to tell me I look like a drunken ibis. When my family and I went skating, the kids were playing tag with me. Of course my youngest can only stand and watch us since he pouts throughout the winter season due to the several layers of clothes he is forced to wear.
So every once in a while I would grab him on the fly under his arms and have him barely touch the ice like he would be running on water. Unfortunately, I lost my footing and we both went face first into the ice. My hands caught the ice as I heard some part of my son's face hit the ice. In my head, I'm thinking, "not the nose, not the teeth, not the nose, not the teeth." When I looked at him, I'm not seeing any blood. Then I see the streak on his jacket and I look at his chin. A 2 inch long bright red gash had opened and was dripping, no gushing all over his jacket.
I was about to run him all the way home on my ice skates and drive him to the ER when my husband laughed and told me after my son would stop crying, he would thank me for the start of his scars he would accumulate over the length of his life.
Then he took the tissue away from my son's chin and it was only a 1/2 inch little red V and it had stopped bleeding, thanks to the 20 degree with a wind chill of 5. After 5 minutes of gauze and rainbow band-aids, my son had a little colourful chin guard and bragging rights.
