Hits and runs and wheezy ones

This day started off innocent enough. Took the kids to school after breaking up their Monday morning fights. Sat down, covered myself with a blanket to read some emails and woke up an hour later. Cleaned the kids' room, set their commission up for the week and then deducted cash for my "bouncer" and "maid" duties of the morning. Once I picked up the kids from school, the race began. We had a 5:30 soccer game, so we had to get homework and guitar practice and drum practice and snacks out of the way. Arrival at the fields was set for 5 and we got home at 3:55. Sigh. Miracle of miracles, we got there on time only to find out the ref would not be arriving until 6. ALl this minutae is riveting, I'm sure, but I'll get on with the story. The field S's team was playing on was parallel to a death trap of a busy road, obscured by lots of trees and brush. During the game we heard a sickening crash, followed by the obvious sound of one of the automobiles driving off and away from the scene of the accident. They were dragging a bumper or their undercarriage of something. You could follow their path by the scraping noise and burning smell they left in their wake. The hub ran down there, but couldn't get through. Some walkers on the greenway called 911. Immediately our friend's phone rang and we found out that the people in the hit car were people we knew...one of G's good friends, in fact. Luckily the kids were okay, even though the car spun and was thrown into a ditch. Everyone at the fields were in a flurry, a wave of concern washing over the place. I was visiting with a friend and discussing different middle school teachers. When I looked up to check on the progress of the game, we were winning, I saw the hub running with S in his arms off the field. Crap. Not again. G and I went over to the sideline and found her with labored breathing and a pale face. She took two hits off the inhaler and was feeling the effects of that. She doesn't use it like she should, so when that albuterol starts a-workin', well her heart gets crazy and she starts looking for a wall to climb. Luckily the game was pretty much over, so she didn't miss much. We got home and she was bandaged up with the healing powers of Italian meatloaf...she said it herself. She still looks a bit pale, but is in much less distress than before. That kid. She can't do anything half way. Ever.

I'm so glad the evening ended on a good note. I will now find the poor woman's Xanax(melatonin)and pray that blessed sleep will come and take me on to a new day.


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