|More head trauma. Unrelated to kids|
If it’s not the boy threatening to chop my head off and put it in the rubbish bin because I wont let him watch the 12 rated Harry Potter films until he’s 12, it’s actual trauma to the head that’s my main beef at the moment. I seem to have had a continual headache for the last two or three weeks and it’s not getting any better.
This morning was a case in point. Fifi came into our bed at 6am and then proceeded to elbow me, knee me, kick me(!) and finally head butt me, in the head. I took a multitude of blows, none of them particularly intentional, or at least I like to think so, but all said, as a result of the beating, I have a bit of a throbbing headache.
I think I can trace the genesis of the current headache back to an incident with the ironing board a week or two ago. I opened the cupboard under the stairs to put some stuff in the tumble dryer (RIP incidentally, I killed it over the weekend, revenge is mine), and managed to knock myself out as the ironing board, balanced on its narrow end, tumbled out and smacked me between the eyes. Wifey had used her daily quota of compassion on scraped knees and bumped children and went on a little rant about how nothing was ever put away properly as I checked my cranium for seeping wounds. There were none this time I am happy to report.
It’s small wonder I’m struggling around in a half daze at the moment, I’m probably half concussed. It’s generally more than a little worrying that nobody has noticed the slightest difference in the way I’m behaving…