Sunday, April 19, 2009

Things that Go Bump Down the Stairs

Our first night was pretty much TMZ-worthy. Every year when we get here we have a big clambake and there's an astonishing amount of beer consumed and then we all play Kings. This is a great recipe for someone to do something embarrassing and be added in to the stories that will be retold at Christmas, Thanksgiving and the next decade's worth of beach trips. This year my sister's boyfriend looked like he was itching for that title - by the 3rd round, he had instituted a rule that whenever anyone wanted to address him they had to call him "Mister Master" only it came out "Mishter Mashter." Katie was pretty thrilled. The next 2 rounds he would interject with random outbursts like "I didn't work hard all week to act like your sister!" or "Positive Mental Attitude Katie, Positive Mental Attitude!" After round 5, Katie put him to bed.

One would THINK Dylan would enjoy the embarrassment of the next day. But oh no, it got worse. We all went to bed around 2. Katie & boyfriend, husband & I were sleeping in a downstairs room right near the stairs to the kitchen. Around 4 am, Matt said he woke up to a noise that sounded like "Shelves holding a 100 lb of stuff collapsing." Only he did not investigate. (Matt & Meghan: Not Ready for Parenthood. I don't wake to loud noises, he wakes but assumes "eh... must have been nothing.") Turns out that nothing was my aunt taking a nosedive down the stairs. She went to the powder room next to our room and tried to clean up...then finally gave up and went and got her sister. Her sister, alarmed by the SKULL she could see through her gaping head wound, called 9-1-1. Matt awoke again to the noise of the paramedics hollering "Hello!" into the hallway next to our room, and finally went out to investigate. (Me: still sleeping.) She had a huge gash in her head, and they ended up taking her to the hospital. (I did finally wake up when Matt came back in our room and started rifling through my purse to get my keys.) She ended up having stitches down from about the middle of her forehead back to behind her ear. (And apparently the doctor's demeanor towards her changed drastically when she pointed out she was here with "her nephew, the doctor.") *Um, he's not a doctor just a student doctor, but that can be a moot point when you want someone to stop explaining things to you in "poor stupid drunk lady" terms. She's okay now, and in fact the stitches come out today.

Yesterday I was uploading pictures to my computer and her daughter (the 5 yo) came to sit on my lap. We were flipping through pictures and she looked at one and said "That's before Mommy bumped her head!" so she clearly gets the concept of where the stitches come from. (Another great comment as we flipped through pictures.... "Lets count the beer cans in this! 1....2....3....10...11....12....12 beer cans! How many people drank those beers?" Can you do long division, sweet child?)

We are happy to know that for all future family vacays the answer to "Is there a doctor in the house?!" will always be a resounding "Yes!" (And by resounding, I might mean resigned. He's kind of stuck with us.)

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