I wrote a blog about a year ago called “Stop Hitting Me in the Face With Your Balls“.  It documented an afternoon (my first and  ONLY  one that year) spent “playing” with the penis people in the trampoline.  The wee penis person was quite wee at the time and Nicklas still gave a shit about whether or not I was injured by his antics.  When momma claimed injuries during that little shit storm of dodge ball, trampoline style, the penis people actually  GAVE A SHIT if I were injured  and gave me  AT LEAST  60 seconds to collect myself before pummeling me with balls again.   Fast forward to this year and the wee one is stronger and more agile.  He also  LIKES  to hurt people more than the older penis person does.  Penis people play much differently than non-penis people.  They are often far more intense in their play and are quite interested in resulting injuries that will occur than the actual “game” being played.  At least….that’s how my penis people operate.

I seldom climb in the trampoline with the penis people.  They are far too advanced in their trampoline skills for my taste.  Where I’m still teetering from side to side and every bounce sends me crumbling to my knees (and ironically, makes me a REALLY good target at the perfect level), my penis people run in circles and bounce and flip with dexterity of well-trained circus performers.  They like to pummel one another with balls fashioned into projectiles of evil and body parts become stealth weapons.   The only rule, as far as I can tell, is the last one to cry over an injury WINS!   Sometimes the penis people from next door come over and join in the fun.  Two penis people at once is scary enough.  Several, many without familial ties to one another and therefore no reason to be cautious, is down right terrifying.

So today, I cautiously eased my big momma ass into the trampoline with the boys and asked them  nicely  to  please  go easy on me.   What I failed to realize is…..without even meaning to, I’d just issued them a  CHALLENGE to see who could do the greatest amount of bodily harm to me.  As you can see from the pictures above, they happily took turns jumping  ON ME ….doing flips  OVER ME  (I took a couple of feet to the head during THAT game)…..and playing “let’s make a penis person tower ON TOP OF MOM” (no, seriously, that’s what Nicklas called it and Joshua, even with his limited ability to understand  MOST  things we ask of him….he managed to understand  THAT).

In the midst of the squeals of glee and the insistences of “stop, give me a minute, THAT HURTS” (I’m sure you can figure out what was coming from whom) stood the Dick, snapping pictures of the mayhem and subsequent carnage that was  ME.  He chooses  NOW  of all times to grant me photo ops???   OF THIS????  Between chuckles, he would shout “Are you OK”.  I couldn’t even manage to answer him appropriately, lest I lose focus on the insanity surrounding me and the inherent need to protect myself.   THIS was NOT the time to lose focus.

Finally, I crawled my happy ass to the exit of this pit of doom and declared I was finished “playing” for the night.  But, oh those wacky penis people,  THEY were far from done playing.  They managed to cajole dear old Dick inside with teasing and pleas and proclamations of love if he would just join in the “fun”.  This was the first time the Dick has  EVER  been in the trampoline.  I’m nearly certain it might be his last.  They unleashed a shit storm of terror down upon him with a vengeance.   Several large balls found their way in and were promptly put to good use as weapons of mass destruction.  And I, being the evil bitch that I generally am, found this the perfect opportunity to capture the moment for all eternity in pictures……and laugh with sweet abandon over the fact that IT WASN’T ME THIS TIME AROUND.

After nearly an  HOUR  of this freak show gone more than horribly wrong, the Dick and I declared it was time to go inside and prep for bed (them, NOT us).   We somehow managed to wrangle up those penis people and corral them to the door.  Bodies were cleansed of all residuals of dirt (and a little bit of blood)…..snacks were issued……bedtime rituals were performed……and the penis people were out like a light, completely worn the hell out from kicking mom and dad’s asses.  The Dick and I hobbled over to our comfy couch, feeling very much like Veterans of some epic battle.  We were combat worn and exhausted and began counting the bruises that will be  MUCH  prettier, I’m sure,  in tomorrows daylight.  But even with all the bumps and bruises and feeling as if we’d been beaten by tiny midgets (which, technically, we  WERE)….it was an amazing time spent together as a family……two penis people….the Dick…..and me.