To answer a PSA (Public Service Announcement) for a group of very interesting women, I had to tell a really good story. This is a true story showing several life lessons. Set down your drinks and hold on tightly.
The ER nurses know his name. The surgical nurses ask me how he's doing. Let's just start there...
He's got a man cave. I try not to know what happens in the man cave until he has all of my silverware. He's fixing up a Camry that his brother thrashed. They've been talking about fry oil conversions, electric cars and hydrogen cars. What would need to be done to convert this Nasty car that is now spanking clean, but still needs much work.
I have 4 proto-adults in the house, two are quite disabled - so I run around like an idiot most days plus my full time job. Some days, I have the attention span of a gnat on meth. He mentions that he has an electrolysis machine. I hear a word that means, "Electrolysis hair removal is the only method approved by the FDA for permanent hair removal." He does not mean this. I remember asking, "Why would you want a bald dog?" He took a jelly jar (bonus points for shrapnel) and made something that means, "One important use of electrolysis of water is to produce hydrogen. 2 H2O(l) → 2 H2(g) + O2(g); E0 = -1.229 V"
He used soda on the lid of the jelly jar because hydrogen production will be shown by the bubbles that are produced. He didn't believe the bubble test because it was SODA.
I'm having a very busy day off capped by making omelets for 5 people. William comes down and asks, "Mom, can I borrow a lighter?" Since it's Will, I do ask. I want full credit that my brain said, "DANGER! NO FLANGE!!" "Why do you need a lighter?"
"I need to test something."
In a kid that isn't a beer drinker, you don't get the magic words of 911 potential out of "Hold my beer and watch this." Since I smoke, I just hand him a lighter. I go back to torturing eggs.
BAMFFF. It sounded like a huge monitor got dropped from a desk. (I've heard that sound. It could have been the sound of a ferrari hitting a maple tree for all I know.) It did say, "BAMMF" like it meant MOTHERFUCKER! And, there was the tinkle of glass ... In the hallway.
In the 1/2 second that it took me to levitate the stairs, William was standing there shell shocked and starting to giggle. Not the healthy giggle like the dog farted. This was the giggle that means the start of evil scientist movies. Giggling. He's fine. The room is fine. The windows are intact (hush, it's winter in Minnesota - this is important).
I get reminded that electrolysis is good for something not called a Brazilian. Oh. I wasn't this stupid before I had children. Child is fine. Computer is fine. Keyboard is covered in water. Water cleaned. I go down and finish the omelete in progress. Will cleans. There is glass EVERYWHERE. We pick up the big pieces. Vacuum. Strip his bed. Vacuum again. Sweep glass out of the hallway. Will is sniggering by now and progressing as the adrenaline hits the strange places. He ends laying on the livingroom floor guffawing like he's being tickled. Joking about writing this up on facebook like it's a school project. (Oh LORD, protect me from the drama shitstorm of the ex husband seeing an explosion on facebook.) Child is fine. Hysterical, but fine. His last pinkeye was from getting a piece of clear plastic stuck into his cornea - I look him over as closely as I can without "BAD TOUCH". He's fine. I examine his room and find SIX pieces of glass embedded in the drywall. I pull them out so glass isn't found later in bad ways.
"Mom, am I grounded?"
"No, but you will be cleaning until I'm happy again."
The next day, he tells the girlfriend that he's grounded. He's still got a major case of the giggles whenever certain words are mentioned. Rare words for teenagers like WATER, JELLY JAR, ELECTRONICS. He's the captain of his school's robotics team and skipped the first few meetings. I don't blame him.
3 days later, he's taking out the trash. A lid to a can of cat food was on the bottom of the bag and sliced the top of his foot open badly enough to need gauze and duct tape. (yes, duct tape. Red Duct tape with Black Dragons on it. At least it wasn't the hot pink with tiger stripes.) After the 30 staples across his neck and shoulders this summer, we don't need to be back in the ER for AWHILE.
So, points to remember. Hydrogen explodes. Don't let children play with lighters. Don't do experiments near a computer. Don't scare your mother. My son can blow shit up, but gets hurt taking out the trash. Did I miss anything? Want to hear the stitches story?