And now, the real story...

Here is the true tale of Headbutts from an eighteen month old!

In December of 2003, I was asked by some dear friends of mine if I'd be willing to help them out for a day. They ran a daycare out of their home for their son and the son of a mutual friend of ours, and the nanny was going to be unavailable that day. Since I was currently working part-time for my current job, I said it wouldn't be a problem as long as I didn't have to change diapers. They agreed and the deal was made, hands were shaken, dotted lines were signed upon, and so on and so forth.

Several days later, I made my way over to their house. The boys had just eaten lunch and were playing nicely with their toys and each other. The books were pointed out to me, as were the DVDs and video tapes. Basic questions were answered, simple directions given, and I was left on my own with the tots.

I looked around, trying to find something that I could do with them and have it be somewhat educational. Nothing really stuck out. I decided to make faces at them instead.

I scrunched up my face and looked at one of the boys. Jason, the resident baby of the house, looked up at me, giggled, and went back to turning Tupperware into head protection and walking around blindly. Since he was staying in the living room where everything was padded, I let him be.

I then turned to the non-resident toddler, Miles, and made faces at him. He laughed, ran over to me, gave me a big hug, and proceeded to drool all over my shoulder. I now knew what a chew toy felt like and I needed to distract the drooler in order to keep dry.

I looked at the two of them and thought what sort of activity we could do that'd keep them occupied and quiet. "You guys want to hear Green Eggs And Ham?" Jason's response was a rather solid CLUNK as he suddenly decided to run with his Tupperware helmet, which was still on his head, aimed at the kitchen counter. Miles just drooled some more and had a silly grin on his face; I think he may have been pooping.

"Alright... It's video time!" I announced. Miles bounced around a little bit, while Jason rolled about on the floor, gathering what wits he had left after the collision. Tupperware was pried off of heads, babies were flown to the couch, and Disney's Sing-A-Long Songs was popped into the DVD player.

The boys oooh'd and aaah'd for a good five minutes before getting bored. Jason climbed onto the coffee table, which was a usual place for him to sit and play, and made Tupperware towers. Miles, on the other hand, decided to watch me try unsuccessfully to get them both to clap along with the music, and decided to join in the fun.

Time for a bit of a tangent here... I mentioned earlier that Miles' mother was a mutual friend of mine and Jason's parents. She was the one that I'd mentioned in this blog entry, and she and I had a bit of history together. Her husband really didn't care for me (they weren't married at the time, and were supposedly not even dating either), and was a major reason for my not seeing her for quite a while. Is there a reason for this info? Maybe... Anyway, back to the story...

So, I was trying to get the boys involved in the music, but only Miles was interested in what was going on. Jason was more pre-occupied with his Tupperware creations and then knocking them over.

"Might as well make use of some of the attention and keep him occupied," was my primary thought. So I clapped along with the music. Miles also clapped, but not with the music. Giggling ensued from him as he was entranced with that. I then leaned back on the couch and started patting my belly, once again in time with the music. Miles laid back, pulled up his shirt, started slapping his stomach with wild abandon and cackled with delight. He rolled onto his stomach at that point and slid himself off the couch. I sat up and kept clapping. Miles walked in front of me, still clapping like a seal on speed.

At this point, I decided to go all out and get self-musical. I clapped my hands, slapped my cheeks, knocked on my head, slapped my stomach and patted my legs. Miles loved this, and really got interested when I was doing the leg slaps. With keys in one pocket and change in the other, it made the most enticing sound to him, and he was enthralled.

So I took his hands and put them in mine and lightly slapped my thighs, just enough so that my pockets would jingle. Miles started to giggle, and that's where warning bells should have gone off...

Something I had seen but not noticed earlier was that Miles was a somewhat shy giggler. He'd hide his face as he laughed. And the harder he'd laugh, the faster he'd hide his face. And the jingling of my pockets made him giggle rather hard...

In retrospect, I can see this happening in bullet-time. Miles pulled his hands away from mine to hide his grin of delight, and then raised them a bit above his head. At this point, the action stops, and the camera spins around from Miles' face to his left. Camera speed resumes to normal and his head begins to move forward. The speed is increased and his head flies forward to impact... WITH MY GROIN! Camera turns and pans up to a shot of my face as it displays a perfectly painful image of genital impact by hard baby head, all done in slow motion. Normal time resumes, continue scene.

So yes, our young Miles decided to be so stricken with glee that he felt the best way to show his gratitude was to impact his forehead against my testicles. Repeatedly. He smacked them three times. And all I could do at that point was gasp, squeak, and fight unconsciousness. I took a deep breath, and gently moved Miles to the side. I slowly exhaled. Several more deep breaths were taken, and pain eventually subsided from the groinal area.

I looked over at Jason and noted he wasn't in the least bit fazed by what had just happened; he probably was too absorbed in his Tupperware towers. I glanced over at Miles and gave him the look. He giggled a bit more. I shook my head.

"I think it's time for a new game..."