Preface: Now I could tell you some cool story about how I got my black eye. How I stood up to somebody who bad-mouthed my wife, how I tackled a bank robber and saved the day, how I’m secretly a professional MMA fighter on the weekends. Or like Tiger and how his wife chased him down with a golf club while crashing his Escalade. But that’s just not me. So this is a story about the way teacher types get black eyes.
I woke up Saturday with ambition. I was going to spackle all the nail holes in the baseboards and door frames that have been taunting me for over a month. I was going to sand them, I was going paint them, and I was going to feel accomplished. Well, little did I know, my wife, Kelly, had different plans for me.
As I started filling the holes, Kelly took our 14 month old, Charlie, to his Lola’s house across town. Just as I applied the last bit of spackle with purpose and conviction, my wife called.
“So my mom has just enough left over synthetic grass to fill our courtyard. I think we should do it today!”
“Uhhhhhhh…” I tried to get out of it, but she was right. Damn it, she’s always right. Charlie keeps tripping over the uneven concrete blocks and bricks back there. The fake grass was free, would even out the courtyard and brighten it up a bit.
I knew it was the best thing to do, but I knew I’d be the one doing all the heavy lifting.
And the lifting was heavy.
Each concrete block was 2 ½ by 2 ½ feet, 3 inches thick, and weighed easily over a hundred pounds, maybe even 200. I used a crowbar to pry each one out, He-Manned them to a standing position, and then rolled them to the apple tree in the middle of the courtyard and leaned them there. There were hundreds of bricks to pile up too.
When I was just about finished, I needed to move a large planter pot which had a metal decorative butterfly poked in its soil. I had used the majority of my strength on the block and bricks, so at this point, I was literally shaking.
And this pot was heavy.
As I attempted to drag it with crowbar in my other hand, the decorative butterfly got caught on the crowbar which catapulted the evil butterfly right into the corner of my eye.
When I get hurt, I get quiet and try to find an isolated place to collect myself. I walked right past Kelly (who didn’t see what happened), into the house, straight into the bathroom. My eye was bleeding a little and was pink and puffy. The first thing I thought about was, “Great, now I have to explain this to my students.” Sick.
At that point, I finally took a break and Kelly’s advice to ask the buff 20 year old next door neighbor if he wanted to make 20 bucks by hand-carting the blocks out of the courtyard. Thankfully he was home and willing to help.
The next day, we put in the fake grass (and a truck load of sand underneath) with little problem. I could hardly move I was so sore. I was mostly on Charlie duty in the afternoon, but I screwed that up too. I turned my back on him for about five seconds and then, “WHAAAAAAAAH-AAAH-AAAAH!” I turned around to see him face down on the driveway. He had tripped over his toy fire truck and scraped his little nose. Blood and everything. He and I decided it was time to take a long break and watch the Giants’ playoff game. Just a couple of busted up Greenwoods relaxing on the couch after a long weekend of labor.
He fell asleep in my arms as my wife put the finishing touches on the “grass”. When Charlie woke up, the Giants had won and the yard was finished.
We played out there until dinner time and Charlie didn’t trip once. It was a complete success and it only cost 50 bucks and a black eye.
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