Mom always said, “Don’t play ball in the house!”

by Janie Jones

Normally, I’m a bit to practical to do stuff I know is likelier than not to end badly. But motherhood guilt can lead even the most reasonable of us astray.

My spud, female child, aged 6, however, did not get the biological message that she should be quiet, demure, and boring. Oh, no. Her favorite game morning, noon and night? Wrestling.

Spud: Momma! Momma! Let’s wrestle.

Me: Sorry, Momma has to do homework (yes, I still talk in the third person).

Spud: When you’re done?

Me: Okay. When I’m done.

*Some time later*

Spud: Momma are you done now?

Me: Yes!

Spud: Let’s wrestle.

And so, against my inclination and better judgement we engage upon my bed. Mostly because I feel guilty for spending the better part of Saturday doing homework and leaving the spud to her own devices. The spud’s opening move is to vault onto my back, where, previous guilt-induced wrestling encounters have taught her to anticipate being bucked about like a cowboy trying to ride a bull. Today, unfortunately, I over balance while tipping her over my head. She and I both commence to roll off the bed, the spud bouncing off the chair near my bedside, me bouncing off the spud, landing on one knee and kicking my dresser with my opposite foot. The cacophony of thumps, bangs, and girlie cries draws Leif, who I wish had a camera at the ready, although, I must say his fear for our safety was way satisfying, demanding to know if we were okay.

The spud survived with a bump on the noggin and a bit of a scratch on her back, but no broken bones or bleeding, thankfully. Momma, however, ended up with a nearly severed toe.

Okay. Okay. I exaggerate a bit.

Okay. A lot. But I did get this very strange wound in between my toes on the foot that struck the dresser. I can’t imagine how I hurt the place in between my toes, but I have a circular cut flap of skin bleeding quite nicely.

Once my toe was bandaged, and the spud stopped crying she turned to me and said: Can we wrestle some more?

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