On Monday evening that infamous Muizenberg railroad bridge that has claimed the tops of so many buses and trucks over the years, tried its hand at taking me out too – by attempting to squash my car by dropping a heavy metal advertising sign down from above!
If you are familiar with the territory, then you’ll understand as I paint this picture. I had just finished up at Checkers, and was pulling out of the parking lot in order to join the road that takes me to down to the beach roads and ultimately on to Sunrise Circle, stopping behind one car that was in front of me, also patiently waiting to join the main road from the parking lot.
As this first car nudged forward, there was an almighty metal rending sound and all of a sudden, the steel frame of the big advertising board affixed to the bridge came crashing down, landing literally right in front of the car that was right in front of me!
Amazingly, the metal structure failed to actually hit and squash any car (or person – there are a lot people that walk under that bridge, not to mention all of the homeless people who live under there!).
I was in the fortunate position in that there was enough space for me to make a sharp left turn back into the parking lot and then make an exit under the building and past the railroad, making my way ultimately back up the road and then around the Zandvlei way of reaching Sunrise Circle – lucky because I imagine it took a fair bit of time to clean up that mangled mess and get the cars flowing again!
So yes, now I am positive that Muizenberg doesn’t like me very much.
So my knee gave out again… in the most public manner possible of course. I can’t really blame my bum left knee (which I heavily damaged via a karate tournament way back in July 2007) though, seeing as I’ve never even once taken it to be reviewed by medical experts in the 7 or so years that I’ve lived with the damage – never mind the fact that I’m anyway carrying far too much weight to ever allow it to heal properly!
It all went down this past Sunday, when we successfully hosted Jessica’s fourth birthday party at the always delightful Mondeor Restaurant in Somerset West. All the friends and family were present and accounted for, and given the surprisingly good weather we experienced, the kids were certainly making the most out of the kiddies splash pool.
Now the circular splash pool is ringed with an elevated wooden boardwalk, and therein lies the problem. The edge of the walking planks go well past the vertical boards holding them up, meaning that should too much weight be applied to the edge of the boardwalk you’ll probably find yourself in a spot of bother.
Which is exactly what happened to me.
I was carrying Emily in my arms (for pretty much the whole day) and had strolled over to the pool to ask Jessica something or other (I can’t quite remember what). She wanted out, and she needed a towel, so taking her hand with my free hand, I strode off the boardwalk whilst deep in conversation with her – in other words, not paying attention to what I was doing.
There was an extremely loud snap as the board on which I had just stepped snapped in two, sending me and the two kids tumbling down to the ground. Of course, as my foot hit the ground, my knee gave in completely, shooting pain up through my leg and forcing me to neatly deposit both Emily (which from all eyewitness accounts was a pretty impressive feat) and Jessica before continuing with my tumble that had me ended up face first in the dirt.
The kids were crying, fine though, but obviously shaken up, whilst I on the other hand not so much. I could immediately feel that my knee had conked in and that I had possible twisted my ankle, which made pulling myself back to my feet a much more painful mission that what I care to remember.
(Chantelle says that my face was completely drained of colour for the next while following the tumble, but nevertheless, I limped to a convenient chair and plonked myself down for the rest of the party – which was still thoroughly enjoyable anyway)
Obviously it could have been much worse in that Emily or Jessica could have gotten hurt, but thank the stars that wasn’t the case.
Party done and back at home at last (thanks to Ryan for driving my car and myself home!), it quickly became apparent that I must have put some serious hurt on, because I couldn’t bend my knee at all – meaning an early Sunday evening trip to the pharmacy for Chantelle to pick up some anti-inflammatory tablets and painkillers, whilst Evan, Natasha stayed on to look after Evalynne, Jessica, Emily (and me).
Needless to say, I didn’t drive into work on Monday.
Today we are three days down the line, and I’m happy to report that with each passing day my knee and ankle are doing better and better, and I foresee being back to full mobility just in time for this coming weekend.
Not that I’ll be climbing up any stairs, hills or mountains mind you.
Oh dear. This happened a couple of weeks ago, but boy does it easily slip into second spot on my world’s worst dad moments list. And to be fair, it should firmly feature as Ryan’s first world’s worst uncle moment too! (Just in case you’re wondering what was my first world’s worst dad moment, then undoubtedly it would have to have been that time when I accidentally spilled scalding hot water from my coffee mug over mini Jessica, back when she was still just a couple of months old – thank goodness nothing serious came out of that, other than me feeling like an extremely horrible and useless dad of course).
Anyway, after a fantastic Sunday afternoon spent with my family at Mom and Dad’s pad whilst Chantelle was out watching a theatre show with her family, I decided to cap the day off with a visit to the local duck pond. Jessica and I made the stop off for some bread, and through some surprise circumstances, ended up at Sonstraal Dam with the full roster of Mom, Dad, Ryan, Monty, Cheryl, Chantelle and Robert in attendance, where we then proceeded to feed the ducks and enjoy the fresh, albeit a little chilly, outdoor air.
After all the bread had been gobbled up by the hordes of ducks and Egyptian geese that had descended upon us, Ryan and I thought it would be a good idea to entertain Jessica by walking with her hand in hand and swinging her up into the air we went along. This was coming along swimmingly, and Jessica would giggle in glee as we swung her upwards into the sky after every count of 3, until that infamous and regrettable moment when both Ryan and I simultaneously lost grip on Jessica’s hands at the start of an upward swing, with the result being my daughter flying face first into the gravel before us.
Blood, tears and a very angry wife, not to mention a deep feeling of shame.
So yes, definitely second in my probably yet to be finished list of World’s Worst Dad moments.
(The creche asked about the scab and the bump the next morning mind you. And my colleagues laughed and made fun of me. Sigh, not my best of moments as a daddy then. Luckily for me, Jessica has a particularly short memory, and quickly got back into the “swing” of things. Snigger. See what I did there?)
Remember I noted that Monday morning’s Die Burger carried two local stories of interest in its pages regarding events over the past weekend?
Well the first had to do with Chantelle’s 80 year old great uncle Hubert Montgomery who got knighted by the Spanish monarchy for his lifelong contributions and commitment to the sport of weightlifting. However, this played second fiddle to the front page story, which if you are already not quite a fan of the guy, makes for quite a good chuckle.
So at more or less 03:00am last Sunday morning, an allegedly completely drunk out of his mind Earl Rose, a professional rugby player who hasn’t been playing all that much rugby this season, managed to come racing at full tilt down Sir Lowry’s road in his fancy sponsored black BMW, with his wife Amor seated beside him.
Unfortunately for him, he opted not to hit the breaks as he came to the end of the road, a t-junction mind you, and instead raced head first into the unfortunate beloved Ooskus Fish & Chips shop, a Gordon’s Bay establishment that has been around for 38 years mind you. (In other words, its not as if this t-junction with a shop at the opposite side of it just cropped up overnight!)
Also, note that the luckless Mr. Rose was shirtless at the time.
Needless to say, the owners of Ooskus are less than impressed, and undoubtedly, their insurance as well. After all, I think it is just short of a year ago now, when poor old Ooskus’ kitchen burnt out thanks to a fiery accident. So luck is definitely not on their side.
It is however on Mr. and Mrs. Rose’s side though. If you look at the damage the crash caused, they’re pretty lucky to have walked away from this unscathed!
(Chantelle grabbed these snaps on Sunday morning on her way to work).
Good news though. Ooskus is trading from the owner’s home which sits next door to the devastated shop, and from the look of things, repairs to the main shop are already well underway.
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Washing. One of those chores which simply does not end, not unless of course you become a nudist and forsake wearing clothes completely. However, seeing as that is simply not an option, I’ve attempted to make the task of folding and packing away the washing more fun by replacing the contents usually found in the wash basket with something a little more… squishy.
The end results were disastrous.
And on a completely unrelated note, I have also determined that Jessica is as of yet, not cleared to operate any vehicle or machinery whatsoever.
I had to have a quiet snigger to myself the other evening, when Chantelle stomped into the study and muttered at how annoyed she was with herself. You see, she had earlier put in a load of Jessie’s washing (we always do her washing separate from ours), and for some inexplicable reason had decided that it would be perfectly safe to put an old red tracksuit pants that Jessie got from somewhere in with the rest of the baby washing.
Let’s just say it is a good thing that our little baby girl looks good in pink! ;)
A stupid way to die, and even a more stupid way to demonstrate that what you were protesting against is idiotic:
Police say a motorcyclist participating in a protest ride against helmet laws in upstate New York died after he flipped over the bike’s handlebars and hit his head on the pavement.
Continue reading here
Moral of the story: Wear your stupid looking helmet whenever you get on anything that has only two wheels!
Related Link: http://old.news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110703/ap_on_re_us/us_motorcyclist_dies_helmet_protest