Every night around the dinner table, the boys engage me in some sort of intellectual question along the lines of “Would you rather…?” Apparently this never-ending stream of brain teasers originates in Jacob’s noggin. I’ve always thought there was no “right answer,” but lately it’s clear there is some sort of pass/fail system, and more often than not, I’m failing.
For example, the other night I was challenged to choose whether I’d push a button that shrinks me to 4′ 5″ tall, aaaaand, I’ll never have to worry about money again. When I couldn’t negotiate my height beyond the average second grader, I decided I couldn’t push the button. The boys seemed to delight in the idea of mini me.
The question we debated the most was whether I’d rather be able to run 30MPH but only in short stints (for reference, I requested data on Usain Bolt’s top speed. It’s 27.78MPH), OR have infinite stamina. We’ll come back to this.
So I was going to wrap-up the skunk saga and then we had A WEEK.
Sunday: Nate and I drive 2 hours to Ventura for our second to last game of the season. Part way through the first half, Nate has a breakaway and is one on one with the goalie. He takes the shot and falls down in a heap with the opposing goalie. And this isn’t your average goalie. He’s a big boy. Like maybe more than 200 pounds. Nate doesn’t get up. Nate never doesn’t get up. You may recall, he has a Purnell-pain-tolerance genetic mutation.
Coach carries him off the field. Nate’s shaking. After we get his sock off and complete an assessment by our resident parent/ER doctor, I take him straight to urgent care. Coach’s wife, Karen, flags down a landscaping vehicle and carries our little fallen striker across two fields to deliver him safely into my emergency Volvo. An x-ray shows both his fibula and tibia are broken. They doctor him up in a temporary cast while Coach distracts him with stories of his many trips to whatever they call Australian urgent care.
Monday: Nate “slept” on the couch but tells me he didn’t sleep the whole night. He was googling how to make his temporary cast hurt less. I start dialing for doctors. I finally get through to the only pediatric orthopedists within a hundred miles. They can get him in today… in Santa Barbara. We pile back into the car and make our way 2 hours south for the second time in less than 12 hours. We arrive with a few minutes to spare. Nate eats it on his crutches in the parking garage. Fortunately he doesn’t break something else. He gets a new red cast and a new blue knee scooter. The physician’s assistant leads us to believe surgery is likely in our future. We eat McConnell’s ice cream for lunch and drive home.
The moment I collapse on the couch, Jacob texts me and says the hill behind his school is on fire. Then my wildfire app starts blowing up as the fire goes from 5 acres to “potential for 200” in a matter of minutes. Jacob leaves his math class before they’ve started evacuating the school. Later that night, this leads to a productive parenting conversation reinforcing his decision to leave a situation where he didn’t feel safe.
As I’m feeding the chickens, waiting for our neighbor to bring Jake home from school, Dr. Maguire calls with his interpretation of the x-ray. He’s optimistic Nate won’t need surgery, as long as he doesn’t bust his leg in the coming days. Jacob arrives home safely and the day finally starts looking up.
Tuesday: It’s Halloween. That evening, Nate has pizza with his teammates before they run off on inflatable dinosaurs to trick-or-treat amongst steep hills and precarious curbs. I take Nate Dogg home, after first dropping Ja-cob the giant corn cob at his first well-chaperoned high school party. Juber the Jaimie Uber goes back out for Ja-cob and retrieves the biggest bag of candy Nate Dogg’s ever gotten. Our buddy Cruz really outdid himself.
Wednesday and Thursday: Hours of Zoom interviews span Tuesday through Friday– a dramatic improvement from the resume black hole. I have a vague inkling of an impending planned PG&E outage. Finally the reminder text comes through. No power tomorrow. Oh, and no school tomorrow.
Friday: I complete my last interviews of the week using my hot spot, battery power, and daylight, hoping my shadowy background communicates “energy conscious” not “witness protection.” The boys sleep in and spend the day lamenting their lack of WiFi. Nate and I go out for a second x-ray and lunch. I coast into the evening on fumes and find myself back at the dinner table…
… and our latest “Would you rather…” question. Originally I thought being the fastest person in the world would be better. Think of all the competitions I can win! And the brand deals! I’ve always wanted to be an Olympian. But the boys debate me until I finally acquiesce. And after this week, I have to agree… I’d rather have infinite stamina.