"There's an ice cream social at Millridge"

Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Our good friend Ash and her three-year old son, Ollie, were moving in as Savannah was moving out, though there would be a three-day overlap. Ash was moving back to town from Columbus and needed a place to stay temporarily. I needed a three-year old to chase around to augment my training program…so it was a perfect fit. I figured to pretend he was one of my kids and that would make me seem younger.

I got home thinking I’d do a short ride before they arrived, but Holly had other ideas. “You here to move the dresser and filing cabinet?”

Momma Rolf had drowned her stupid kids, so I replied “that’s exactly why I’m here.”

I rearranged the two pieces and moved a couple of other things and was thinking of sitting down for three minutes when a truck backed into my driveway. It was Ash and there were more things to move…but hey, this was going to be my workout so I went to it. As I was unpacking, I couldn’t help but notice the steady stream of people passing the house on the sidewalk and heading for Millridge Elementary School. I stopped a neighbor to find out what was happening.

“Ice cream social,” she told me in the same sentence she mentioned the spinning class she’d done that morning at her employer’s workout facility, Progressive Insurance.

“Good plan. Workout and ice cream. I’m on much the same one myself right now…except that I’m skipping the ‘workout’ part,” I said.

The school’s been having one of these at the beginning of each school year for as long as I’ve lived on the street…which is 13 years or so. I used to get to go because I had kids in elementary school, but now…then it hit me. I went inside and suggested to Ash that I take Ollie and head for the school. “They’ll think he’s in kindergarten and that I’m his granddad and we’ll get free ice cream.” Holly said it was dinner time and I’d have to try my ploy later. It would be gone by then, but she wasn’t listening to reason. No matter…we still had ice cream in the freezer from Saturday.

Dinner was shrimp pesto, fresh peaches, and a broccoli salad. I ate too much…leaving no room for ice cream, but figured I’d go up to the school for a set of bleachers and have some after that. I own clean-up after dinner and was doing my duty when disaster struck. I was putting the vegamatic thing on the lazy susan, but when I reached blindly into the cabinet, I felt something sharp pierce the third finger of my right hand. It was the blade from the damned thing, and it sliced me like a rip melon. I pulled my hand out with blood spurting all over the kitchen. I reached for the paper towels and slapped them on while calling for Holly.

”Could you come down here and bring some bandages, please,” I called. Ash heard me and figured the ‘bandages’ thing was a bad sign. She took one look at my hand, turned and headed the other way. I’m thinking ‘no’ for the triage job.

Holly arrived, took a look and said “you need stitches.”

Well…who didn’t know that. And who wasn’t about to go to the emergency room for a three-hour wait, a $500 bill and four stitches? “I don’t need no stinking stitches. Let’s just wrap the crap out of it with gauze. If it’s still bleeding in the morning or I’m dead…we’ll know it was a bad decision,” I said. I tough as nails…and dumber than a box of rocks.

So there went my evening workout. I passed on the ice cream, though. It should still be there tomorrow.