Sunday, 25 April 2010

Boys are different. They just are.

So, Friday was interesting. I spent a chunk of the morning before we set off for work/school mopping blood off the bathroom floor.

The boys had been engaging in their customary pre-school skirmishing ("It's my turn to have music on!" "No it's not, and I don't want to listen to "Firestarter" in the morning anyway!") and I was studiously ignoring them while getting dressed. Then the level of wailing coming from FB rose a couple of octaves and a couple of hundred decibels - a sure sign that physical hurt of some sort had occurred. This was confirmed shortly by SB dashing into my room and breathlessly announcing that "FB has hurt himself"

I sauntered into their bedroom with very little in the way of concern - FB's idea of what constitutes grave injury does not exactly tally with the rest of humanity's. I am quite accustomed to having to utilise a magnifying glass to locate the wound from which FB claims to be "almost bleeding to death and you're not even bothered!!!!!!".

However on this occasion I was greeted by the sight of FB literally dripping blood. It was running down his forehead and dripping rather dramatically off the end of his nose. He was practically hysterical. I manouevred him into the bathroom and eventually calmed him down enough to get him to stand with his head over the sink. I am no nurse but I am familiar enough with head wounds to know that any scratch on the scalp bleeds like billy-o and looks like something from a Hammer horror movie circa 1973, and that therefore this probably looked a lot worse than it was. It did. A gentle rinse under the tap disclosed a small cut on his head which stopped bleeding with a little bit of pressure. FB started to breathe normally after about 10 minutes.

I asked how this had happened. "I was putting my belt on and it hit my head." It is a mark of how far I have come in my understanding of boys that this did not phase me in the slightest. I just nodded.

"Need to be a bit more careful next time, eh?"

It was only when I got into work and was regaling my co-workers with this tale that some light was shed. Most of the other people in the room where I work responded with "What? How on earth did he manage that?" A significant proportion however (all male, aged 25-40) nodded sagely.

"Indiana Jones moment"


  1. What's a billy-o?? And why does it bleed so much? I have 3 younger brothers and every kid I ever babysat, except one, was a boy, so I was all prepared and psyched to deal with whatever my son would throw at me. Surprisingly, I had a girl instead.

  2. I was thinking "Braveheart", but Indy will do.
    Yes, boys are different. They just are!

  3. I use 'bleeding like billy-o' too. And poor FB.

    Yeah, males are different. Every morning my male puts on his pants, does up the button and his belt and THEN puts on his shirt, undoes the belt and button, tucks in the shirt and redoes the button and belt. I have never been able to understand why.

  4. Girls make no sense either, if that helps. Which is why you have to cut your fringe off with scissors to play at Cinderella.

  5. If it is any consolation, some girls do this too. My sister was the Head Wound Queen in our house (mostly by falling off or running into walls). Though the bro did split his head open once, by playing a game involving jumping out from behind the sitting-room curtains. He misjudged things and leapt head-first into the coffee table. Guess who he was playing this fine game with? (Hint: not me.)

    I like to think I am more cautious, but I may just be luckier.

  6. Wow, boys really are different from girls. I would NEVER have figured out how he hurt himself with the belt.

  7. Another mysterious post. Never seen "IJ". Must catch up with popular culture some time. Now, I'd understand a "Coronation Street" reference. Any good?