November 2010

Today’s a random sort of day for me, so I thought instead of sharing the newest beauty secret in my pocket, I’d share a quick story with you.  I know, you’re waiting with bated breath, I can feel it.

Several years ago when Precocious was a toddler, we lived in a small condominium in a different city.  We lived close enough to Viktor’s office that he decided to buy a motorcycle for the quick commute.  It didn’t hurt that his best friend/boyfriend had a motorcycle too, and they always buy toys in pairs.  Story for a different day.  Anyway, Viktor had a motorcycle and it was a lot of fun.  The rowdy side of me was excited about the whole thing, the mother side of me was less than thrilled.

I learned how to ride a motorcycle all by myself, and I’ll tell you, there really is something to all that wind in your hair.  It’s a liberating feeling being all exposed to the elements at 60+ M.P.H.  Dangerous and whatnot but you know, fun, and lots of it.

So this one day, in the parking lot of a grocery store Viktor decided to let our 3-year-old daughter take a little spin on the motorcycle, perched on his lap, with no helmet.

Of course this has a terrible ending, that’s why it’s a good story.

Precocious, being a 3-year-old and looking for someplace to hang on, grabbed onto the throttle and yanked for all it was worth.  The motorcycle spun, flipped, threw Precocious several feet, and pinned Viktor underneath.  By the time I arrived on the scene Precocious was crying for all she was worth and Viktor looked like he was on the verge himself.  Within 20 minutes Precocious’ forehead protruded 4 inches out with swelling and she had two black eyes.

I wanted to kill my husband on the spot.

We went to the nearest hospital where we waited 3 hours in the emergency room, were seen by a doctor who might have suggested child abuse if it hadn’t been for the seething rage and barbed remarks I was spewing at my husband, and we didn’t even get so much as an x-ray.  I was convinced we had a permanently brain damaged child.

The good news is that Precocious is just fine, and is ready to receive her Mensa membership any day now.

The motorcycle wasn’t so lucky.  It had a new owner by the time her bruises healed.

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