He Who Laughs Last...

So, a couple of months ago my daughter came home from school with a black eye. Apparently, her face got in the way of an errant rugby ball during P.E. class. My first response upon seeing her was not "Oh my God! What happened?" or "Let me get
some ice, go lay down!" Oh no. I busted out into hysterical laughter. I was even laughing as I took the picture. As you can see, she was not very pleased with me. She'd say things like "I can't believe you're laughing at your hurt daughter" or "It's not funny!" Seeing Katie, however, who turns green at the sight of blood, limps when she has a little black and blue bruise on her leg, and can't write with her right hand when she has a hangnail on her left, sporting a shiner struck my funny bone in such a way it was almost involuntary laughter...almost. The bruise faded and was gone in less than a week, but I remember chuckling to myself when I downloaded the picture of her last month. It was as if I was purposely tempting the karma gods.

The day after New Year's we all went shopping. We strolled along Walking Street and bought some boots for the twins. When I attempted to put the bags into the van's trunk, I didn't pay attention when I brought the lid down, clocking myself smack dab on the bridge of my nose. I heard the crunch. All went black for a couple of seconds and then the stabbing pain and stars appeared. Not again. By the time we got home, I had quite a bruise and I knew what was in my future. The next day I looked like a raccoon. The picture above is a week and a half after the fact.

To Katie's credit, she's only laughed at me a couple of times, but only after her father reminded her of all the times I laughed at her. Larry, on the other hand, guffaws each time he looks at me and says "You know what they say about karma".