the allegorical shit is starting to get real
I really should be in bed because I need to be up in like five hours to get the kid to school early so he can get help with his programming homework. But I needed to offload some of this brain buzzing first.
This was a bad homework night. A line of code in his programming homework wasn't working right, and when he called his dad to ask for help he ended up getting a 20-minute dissertation. The glazed-over, wtf is happening omg look in his eye - I knew that look. I'm pretty sure it's exactly the same one I used to get when my dad tried to help me with algebra. He finally got off the phone when he told his dad that he had other homework to finish. And he did - it wasn't a lie. He had an essay on "To Kill a Mockingbird" to finish formatting - double-spaced with EXACTLY one-inch margins all the way around, thankyouverymuch. Good thing Muskrit can navigate Word without wanting to commit violence upon all of the Microsoft kingdom. I would have never figured out the orphan/widow control was the thing mucking up the works. He passed out on the couch while reading the next book for Language Arts ("Ender's Game", for those wondering what a freshman has to read these days), and I'm pretty sure studying for a Spanish quiz was supposed to happen in there somewhere. Fortunately for all of us, he knows better than to ask me for help with math and gets it done first so that if he has any questions, he can ask Dad.
We're barely a month into high school.
Add to all of this that the kid is on crutches for the next four weeks. He took a hard fall in soccer practice a couple of weeks ago - they were running laps as part of conditioning training, and he landed on his hands and knees on concrete. His left knee swelled up that night and it hasn't really gone all the way back down since. After two X-rays and an MRI, the doctor finally told us yesterday that he'd bruised the bone in the growth plate region, so he absolutely must keep pressure off it until it heals or run the risk of ending up with one leg shorter than the other. Therefore, crutches, which he hates. But I'm relieved, because I thought it was going to be much worse. I was afraid there was a torn ligament or something going on, and was internally freaking out over the idea that he might have to have surgery on it, or get his heart broken by a doctor telling him he couldn't play soccer anymore, etc. etc. My capacity for imagining the worst possible outcome continues to impress. On the upside, he's getting some strenuous upper body exercise in, and the doctor's demand that he stay off it pretty much guarantees he can lay on the couch and play GTA5 most of the weekend without me yelling at him to go outside and be sociable with other humans.
The doctor printed out a couple of the MRI images for me. I have medical verification that the kid is actually, clinically, just skin and bones.
Okay, I feel better now that I got some of that out. I'll post fannish things next time, because Agents of SHIELD gave me a new OTP this week that I need for someone else to love as much as I do.
This was a bad homework night. A line of code in his programming homework wasn't working right, and when he called his dad to ask for help he ended up getting a 20-minute dissertation. The glazed-over, wtf is happening omg look in his eye - I knew that look. I'm pretty sure it's exactly the same one I used to get when my dad tried to help me with algebra. He finally got off the phone when he told his dad that he had other homework to finish. And he did - it wasn't a lie. He had an essay on "To Kill a Mockingbird" to finish formatting - double-spaced with EXACTLY one-inch margins all the way around, thankyouverymuch. Good thing Muskrit can navigate Word without wanting to commit violence upon all of the Microsoft kingdom. I would have never figured out the orphan/widow control was the thing mucking up the works. He passed out on the couch while reading the next book for Language Arts ("Ender's Game", for those wondering what a freshman has to read these days), and I'm pretty sure studying for a Spanish quiz was supposed to happen in there somewhere. Fortunately for all of us, he knows better than to ask me for help with math and gets it done first so that if he has any questions, he can ask Dad.
We're barely a month into high school.
Add to all of this that the kid is on crutches for the next four weeks. He took a hard fall in soccer practice a couple of weeks ago - they were running laps as part of conditioning training, and he landed on his hands and knees on concrete. His left knee swelled up that night and it hasn't really gone all the way back down since. After two X-rays and an MRI, the doctor finally told us yesterday that he'd bruised the bone in the growth plate region, so he absolutely must keep pressure off it until it heals or run the risk of ending up with one leg shorter than the other. Therefore, crutches, which he hates. But I'm relieved, because I thought it was going to be much worse. I was afraid there was a torn ligament or something going on, and was internally freaking out over the idea that he might have to have surgery on it, or get his heart broken by a doctor telling him he couldn't play soccer anymore, etc. etc. My capacity for imagining the worst possible outcome continues to impress. On the upside, he's getting some strenuous upper body exercise in, and the doctor's demand that he stay off it pretty much guarantees he can lay on the couch and play GTA5 most of the weekend without me yelling at him to go outside and be sociable with other humans.
The doctor printed out a couple of the MRI images for me. I have medical verification that the kid is actually, clinically, just skin and bones.
Okay, I feel better now that I got some of that out. I'll post fannish things next time, because Agents of SHIELD gave me a new OTP this week that I need for someone else to love as much as I do.