Wednesday, February 21, 2007

I don't scratch

This is still part of the story where daughter Ashley spent 48 hours in my bed. During a brief moment of conscience she asked me to check her fever. Being the caring father that I was I obliged. Now I didn’t have my glasses on so my judging distance was off. When I touched her forehead it was more of a tap. Her reaction was that of crocs jaw come slamming down. With a scream she dug her nails deeply into my forearm before the slow and methodical rake across. This was not an unusual pain for me as I sometimes get that if the wife is not receptive that night but this seemed to be doing a lot of bleeding. Ya like 20 min worth as I kept pressure on it. That was 9 months ago and I still have the scaring of a rapist. When I tell people that all I did was touch her forehead, I get a lot of weird looks with a follow up question of “and where else” She claims she was asleep and doesn’t remember a thing but all I know is now I have 3 scars across my arm now. Didn’t she go off to college???
Sigh

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