The Boogie Board Bop

I'm back. Actually, I was back yesterday, but I came down with a bad cold and felt like ten bags of crap. In about the last hour and a half, I've started to feel slightly more human.

I was away from Thursday to Sunday with my fourteen-year-old son to a big volleyball tournament. Eastern Canadian 16-and-under, 15-and-under, and 14-and-unders. It was *huge*. There were one hundred and fifty-two teams entered. My son's team didn't do too well, but they had lots of fun.

But I digress.

Last Thursday morning, just before I went away, I had another "America's Funniest Videos" moment. Particularly because it entertained total strangers.

My wife and I were at the grocery store with our five-year-old. When we were there, we saw a large display of colourful inexpensive "boogie boards" which were just the same as our nine-year-old twins received as gifts at their birthday party. We acquiesced to the child's request to buy him one, deciding that it would help keep some peace in the family, since he had been pilfering his siblings' boards incessantly.

So there we are. The child had picked out a board he liked. His mother was holding him up in her arms, and he was holding the boogie board under his arm.

Somehow, and I am a little vague on the details, but while we were standing there, my wife managed to turn away from me, while the child in her arms was adjusting the position of the board somewhat. In a moment of perfect bad timing, the bottom of the boogie board tilted up, cutting a swath through the air until it came to its ultimate point of termination. Right in the tommyknockers.

WHUMP.

It's amazing how much force a piece of styrofoam wielded by a small child can generate, when circumstances are right.

Facing away from me, they didn't even notice what had happened. Until they turn around and my wife sees me standing there, supporting myself on the display with an unusual look on my face. I explain to her the sad situation. She doesn't seem too concerned. I wish women could spend a day or two with testicles.

In any case, with the horrid event rapidly receding into the past, I notice a grocery item on the floor that looks like it has fallen out of someone's cart. Just outside the door is a woman with her daughter, and a large cart full of groceries.

I trot out to her, and ask her if the item is hers.

Instead of saying 'yes', or thanking me for my gallantry, she says:

"Are you the man who got hit in the groin?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"That should have been on video!" she says with amusement.

I wasn't even aware they they were there, enjoying the show. But I'm *so* glad that someone was able to get some enjoyment from my pain.

It almost makes it all worthwhile.

Not.