I'm not known as a prankster, myself. My wit runs in different directions, tending toward the verbose. But today, I feel the fool.
To make a long story a little less long, Little Danger adorably attempted to grasp my nose yesterday. How he could miss such a prominent target befuddles me, yet he managed to firmly stick one of his little baby talons directly into my left eye.
It hurt, preciousssss.
I thought I was fine, until later in the afternoon when it felt like some asshole smoker was extinguishing his Lucky Strike in my ocular orbit. And whereas LeftEye and fire historically go together, I do not like the burning sensation, not one little bit.
Knowing that quite often an eye will heal itself of a minor scratch, I popped some Ibuprofen and spent most of the day keeping the eye closed, or staring at single spots to limit the movement. It bears mentioning that I don't do pain well, and so when more negative items stacked up, I ended up handing Little Danger to Ruffstuff to be entertained, and spending a portion of my evening begging Wifefish's forgiveness for suddenly becoming an asshole.
I think I may need to have a switch installed in my vocal chords, so that if I happen to be in pain and irritable, I can just go into "silent mode". It'd be better for everyone, I think. If we happen to hit the trifecta of sleepy, hungry, and hurt...well, that's when I resemble an angry hippo and begin thrashing and charging the nearest moving target. Wifefish has learned to stand very still sometimes. Ruffstuff throws small objects into other rooms, hoping to distract me.
My moment of fear came at 4 am, when I rose to tend to the whining Little Danger (recovering from a cold). Putting the pacifier in his mouth became an exercise in futility, as my scratched cornea rejected the concept of vision. I had a horrible vision in my head of having to change a diaper while blind, and how messy such an endeavour must prove. I staggered back to the bedroom, feeling my way with my eyes screwed shut.
I stopped in the bathroom for a moment, taking a deep gulp of water and washing my pride down with it. "Wifefish, I need you", I said. She woke instantly, and said "What do you need?"
"I need you to take care of Little Danger, I can't open my eyes right now."
She didn't answer, she just went to grab him. I try not to wake her, ever, for baby things. I just take care of it. But the burning was so intense that tears dripped freely from my chin, and like she always does, she picked up seamlessly where I left off. I wonder, very occasionally, if I actually complete her as well as she does me. There's no "I" in team, maybe, but there seems to be a "We fucking got this, whatever it is" in team.
I forced my eyes closed, and returned to sleep after a half hour or so of gritting through the pain.
Today, I had a visit to the eye doctor, my first in living memory. He dropped a numbing agent in, took a look, and declared that I should be fine on my own in a day or two. The screen's a bit blurred as I type this, but I get to keep my hawk-eyes. If only I had kept my cat-reflexes. As it is, I may still have them...but it's more a cat on quaaludes.