This blog should be rated MA for mature audiences only, or at least not for the faint of heart. Or maybe it was only worse for me because I don’t have a penis, I don’t know but you’ve been warned.
The day started bright and lovely, another good beach day. Hubby and I go and buy some floats today, and that turned out to be a great idea. The kids had fun riding the floats aka surf boards on their stomachs as the waves crashed them into the shore. I got myself an innertube and just bobbed around like a cork watching my kiddos. Ethan had a few meltdowns today. Poor little guy. I only mention this to set the stage for what happens later in the day…..ya know the penis incident. For those of you thinking (or hoping) the penis incident somehow involved my husband, well I wish it had, might have been less traumatic for me anyway, and I don’t mean that the way it sounds like I mean that, it’s just he’s an adult and would have handled it without me having to get involved….maybe….I just hope that theory doesn’t get tested because I don’t want a second incident. Don’t worry, I’m getting to it! I have to warm up to the subject because I feel like I might be suffering from some PTSD.
My oldest daughter and I are the first to depart from the beach for the day. We carry as much as we can, and by the time we got home, I was about ready to die. Yes, it’s only a 3 minute walk, but 2 minutes of that is through sand, and trying to walk on sand weighed down by floats and towels is a feat worthy of an olympic athlete, or at least that’s what I tell myself as I schlepp towards our house. I am a hot sweaty nasty mess by the time I reach the house. I shower, and sit down with my book. The house is peaceful and quiet. I’m enjoying my alone time until my oldest daughter comes into the house near tears. I had noticed on the beach what looked to be a bug bite right next to her bikini line, on her inner thigh. I wasn’t really trying to look, but it was huge. I casually mentioned it, and after looking down, she was like “OMG!” I did mention it casually! Jeez. Luckily, I brought our entire medicine cabinet with me. She’s giving me the gory details of her “bite”, but the more she talks about it the more I think it’s probably a boil or cyst from an ingrown hair. Now this is a very delicate subject and I’m sure she’ll hate me for mentioning it but I have to set the stage for my fragile state of mind by the time hubby got home with the other 3 kids. The internet is the worst thing to surf when you are unsure what ailment is troubling you. Type in a list of symptoms and you’ll see what I mean. She comes back down after doctoring it with this little gem of theory, “Mom, do you think a spider bit me and laid eggs in my skin?!?!??!” Seriously? Can that even happen? She swears it can. I silently begin to panic but I don’t want to let her know I’m panicking. I enter in a description of the “bite” in google and the first hit is Brown Recluse Spider bite. Now I’m freaking out!!!! However, I do manage to not hyperventilate and pull myself together. After further research, I come to the conclusion that it’s not a bite, but a boil. Not pleasant to be sure, but certainly a better alternative than being the host body for thousands of Brown Recluse spider babies.
Okay, I sit back down with my book and continue reading while practicing my deep breathing exercises. As I am reading, I think I hear something. Yes, there it is again. What is that? It sounds like…omg yes, it’s man-child screaming. The first child I encounter is our middle daughter who quickly informs me that she got stung by a jellyfish. Wha? I am trying to be appropriately horrified and concerned but man-child’s wailing has reached epic proportions and I’m pretty sure broke the sound barrier all over again. She appears to be ok, she’s not crying and all her limbs are intact, so I ask what is wrong with man-child. Both girls shrug their shoulders. Apparently, they are all very irritated with him right now. He’s walking funny, and holding his pants. Now, maybe it’s because I’m his mother, but I can definitely tell the difference in this crying. This isn’t I’m tired and cranky and sunburned cry, this is I am in excruciating pain cry. I immediately set to calming him down. Hubby is puffed up like an inflatable hulk doll, complete with veins popping and an eye twitch, his jaw is working and I can tell I will get no help or explanation from that corner. The girls are busy avoiding me. Okay, so apparently no one is going to tell me what happened and man-child can’t talk, he looks like he’s about to throw up. I get him somewhat calmed down and start taking off his swimsuit. Here is where things get interesting.
We get his swim shirt pulled off (greatest invention ever btw) and then I try to take his pants off. As I tug them down, he starts screaming all over again, and I’m like what the heck! I look down and that’s when I see it. Stop reading now if you want to avoid the gory details.
Man-child is circumcized, and that ridge of skin around the head of his penis is the area of concern. Somehow, and God only knows how this happened, I’ve never seen or heard of this happening, certainly didn’t even know it was possible, but apparently it is and its happened to man-child. A piece of this ridge of skin has gotten sucked into one of the holes in the netting of his swimsuit. OMG, I shudder just thinking about it. Seriously, I can’t feel my legs and my arms and fingers are tingly. I tried pulling on it (now I feel a little throw up in the back of my throat), but it won’t come out and he is screaming louder!!!! I yell for help! I mean hubby has a penis, he’ll know what to do. Admittedly, at this point he doesn’t know what’s going on, but I would think my panicked voice as I kneel in front of my son trying to gently disengage his penis from his swimsuit might have given him pause to at least come over and find out what is wrong!!!!! Man-child looks down and sees that his penis is stuck in the mesh and he starts to hyperventilate! I can’t blame him, I am doing the same! OMG what if I have to cut it off! Not the whole penis, but this part of skin that’s stuck! I can’t breathe. Even rewriting this is making the panic start all over again. There are a thousand ideas, each more horrible than the last, running through my brain in this moment. I have almost convinced myself that my poor son will live his life as a eunuch when the skin pops out! OH thank God. Thank you thank you thank you thank you God! He immediately stops crying of course and I get him calmed down as I yell at my husband. I can only imagine what our neighbors thought as I yell “his penis was stuck!” I am thinking about my poor sweet boy walking the whole way home with his penis like that, each step must have been torture and he was getting yelled at and manhandled by both my husband and my daughters. In their defense, I mean they couldn’t have possibly known, and he had several meltdowns over nothing earlier in the day, so I’m not blaming them, but in this moment I am the lioness and my cub has been injured and everyone is going down!
I got him showered, and calm and happy once again, but I’m thinking he’s never going to put on a swimsuit again! I’m not sure I ever want him wearing one again. I think I’ll make him wear underwear under his swimsuit next time. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. So, after the trauma’s of the day, we all head out for some much needed fun at Destin’s Harbor Walk Village. I order the biggest drink they have, I mean I feel I deserve it. Thankfully, the rest of the night passes without incident. We get home and light some sparklers up before heading to bed.
Up next: Wonderworks Science Place in Panama City and more beach fun (hopefully without trauma). Enjoy our pics of the day (and no I didn’t take a pic of the incident!)
This is the entrance to Harbor Walk Village and the home of the World’s largest Magnolia Tree. It was huge!
Dad, don’t worry, your youngest granddaughter was able to get over the trauma of her childhood incident with a sparkler, it’s all good now 🙂
This pic scares me….