It is a widely known fact that my father is a freak for safety. He drives safely, he bikes safely and he hunts safely. He hardly ever drinks. He's never smoked a cigarette in his life, and he rarely does anything without reading the rules and regulations. He's extremely technical in his approach to anything. [He's an engineer. It's in his blood.] You might say he's overly cautious. We say he's just Safety Man Bahb.
As children, Sisters and I were not allowed to run around outside without shoes. Firstly, I'm severely allergic to bees. Secondly, our feet would be dirty and when we tore through the house like little demons looking for Zebra cakes, we'd get mom's clean floor all "shitted up." When we BEGGED Big L for flip-flops, my dad axed the debate with a simple, "you'll fall on your faces down the cement steps outside." I'll have you know that I did indeed fall down the cement steps outside. WHILE WEARING SNEAKERS. I wasn't even trying to do any awesome ninja stunts. Typical. Naturally at the start of my epic fall, I was concerned about the outcome. As my body was flipping around and scraping off the steps, I realized that I was rocketing down those cement steps wearing SNEAKERS and so Bahb's argument was null and void. I was ELATED.
Sneakers, flip-flops, bare feet...those cement steps were a death trap for children and Bahb knew it. What he was unprepared for is that with this little tumble of mine, I realized sneakers could not keep me safe. So if sneakers could not keep me safe, why not be more fashionable? Surely Bahb would understand my desperate [and somewhat logical] need for flip-flops now.
Directly following my elation, the pain set in. Of course, I screamed and slobbered for rescue as I trudge up the Cement Steps from the Seventh Circle of Hell. Bahb applied copious amounts of iodine and peroxide to my wounds. I vowed not to cry, but I couldn't control myself. I concentrated on my "let me wear flip-flops Dad" speech. In hindsight, I should have taken a more professional approach, but I was a child and so it came out like this: "but DAAAAAAAAAD, I was wearing stupid sneakers so it doesn't matter. I can wear flip-flops outsideeeeeee! I fell down the steps in SNEAKERS. lemmewearflipflopsssssss." He didn't say anything. I sensed victory was near. Then he looked me in the eye and said "If you were wearing flip-flops, you'd probably be in the hospital." I was crushed and bleeding...and my hands/legs and arms were on iodine fire. To make matters worse, my dad also applied approximately 5600 band-aids to the flesh wounds all over my legs. Not only did Sisters tease me relentlessly, but the neighbor boy said I looked like Michael Jackson:
He was right.
As you just learned, Bahb always proceeds with caution and takes the safety and well-being of his family VERY seriously. This is completely unlike my mother who made her kids and the neighbor girl [with promises of doughnuts] trudge through the blizzard of '96 to get a Dunkin Donuts' coffee. [This is completely factual and will be covered in a different blog. In fact, my mother's love for coffee needs its own book.]
During my last trip to Texas, my parents surprised the whole family with a Sunday Funday Boat Day on Lake Texoma [super gorgeous, HUGE lake. get there.] We opted to go in the morning to avoid spontaneous combustion due to the insane heat factor [see How Cockiness Almost Killed Me]. Because there were so many people going, Bahb decided to rent a pontoon-style boat. We boated around to a clear area and started tubing like maniacs. As Bahb got more comfortable at the helm, tubing became exponentially more fun. Big L biffed it once, lost her water shoe and took about 15 minutes to swim back to the tube even though she was approximately 3 feet away [we're not strong swimmers by any stretch of the imagination.] As lunchtime drew nearer, we stopped at a small island to eat and explore. I take exploring very seriously and did my best Dr. Livingston impression as I walked around the island. The lake was getting busier and busier with other Sunday Funday-ers. All of this fantasy island romping and exploring had to come to an end, and I was sorely disappointed. I really enjoyed island life and could see myself opening a tiki bar on the new The Isle of Farley. I think Husband and I would do very well there. Everyone needs a drink before, during, and after Boat Day.
Anyway, Bahb told me I couldn't stay on the island and so I begrudgingly boarded the HMS About-To-Be-Destroyed. Bahb navigated us back to open waters. If I understood "knots", I would try to estimate how fast we were going, but I'm not qualified in sea speeds. Let's just say that Bahb was a little overzealous in his acceleration considering the wake created by the other Sunday Funday-ers. We all saw a rather large wake headed our direction at lightning speed and to my sheer and utter surprise, Bahb went for it. He made some sort of battle cry sound and then we hit the wake like a bus hitting a building, which resulted in The Great Wave of Lake Texoma.
Everyone in the front of the boat was absolutely pummeled by water. Sister K was nearly sucked off and under the pontoon boat. She sustained some serious bruising and other minor injuries. The rest of us were drenched and terrified.
As you can imagine, Safety Man Bahb was highly upset with himself. In a shocking moment of spontaneity, he neglected to think about the difference between a speed boat and a pontoon boat. A speed boat would have no issue slicing through a wake like that. A pontoon boat? Not so much. My immediate concern was for my digital camera that was completely submerged in water. I quickly got over that when I realized that Sister K took a serious spanking from The Great Wave. My secondary concern was sinking. Our little vessel was taking on some water from the Wave itself as well as the residual water shooting up as we bobbed around in Son of Wave [the love child of our pontoon boat and The Great Wave.] I'll have you know that one of my greatest fears is drowning. It just seems so horrible. Fortunately, we didn't sink; but we did break the little gate on the front of the boat.
We laughed it off as we docked the boat and gathered our belongings. Safety Man Bahb talked about it for days, shaking his head in disgust. This whole situation will only perpetuate his maniacal faith in safety precautions. It is my belief that something traumatic like this happened early in Bahb's childhood, which is why he clings to safety precautions and follows rules and regulations strictly. Either way, we all survived.
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