It was a momentous occasion-an occasion which carried as much dread as joy. After several years of being satisfied with a plastic baseball bat, the short people began clamoring for a metal bat. So last Saturday, with a good deal of trepidation, a shiny, hard, aluminum bat replaced the safe plastic one in the backyard.
The short people were enthusiastic, even as they received strict instructions on the importance of cautious swinging. For the big people, visions of a youngster with a split head palled the opening of the new season.
As a result it came as no great surprise when Emily came dashing into the house Monday afternoon saying, "He hit her on the head with the bat!" Emily was obviously safe, Carly was sleeping upstairs, so by process of elimination Allison must be lying unconscious in the grass.
Not so. There at the back door, hand pressed tight against a forehead that was rapidly swelling and changing color, was ol' n. She had been helping Aaron search for the baseball under a bush when he lifted the bat and her head happened to be in the way.
There were the usual comments. "It was a home run, huh, Mom." "Do you see stars?" "Did you think you were a baseball?" "You look like a unicorn." "You're the season's first casualty."
However, the humor in the event took a while to appear. It came slowly, at about the same speed the bump disappeared.... ~T.Stucky
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