The Weekend’s End

April 01

The Weekend’s End

Thank goodness the weekend is over.

This was McHusband’s big weekend.  Yes, it was the weekend of his first ever mixed martial arts tournament.  Hopefully it’s safe to say this was the weekend of his last ever mixed martial arts tournament.

A mother of four children really doesn’t need that kind of stress, you know what I mean?  Seriously, if he had been killed, I’m sure the Life Insurance Agent would have just laughed in my face.  “You think death by stupidity is covered?!?” he would say.  “Sorry lady, you need to talk to the welfare hander-outers, not me.”   And then he’d drive away in a Jag that my premiums paid for.

On a positive note, the only trip McH took to the hospital this weekend was to take in A~’s long-overdue . . . ahem . . . sample.   Yes, yes, I should have done the overnight (as opposed to 24 hour) collection a long time ago, but it’s done now.  And anyway, this post is about McH being stupid, not about me being . . . ummm . . . not in a hurry to get up in the middle of the night to collect urine.  So there.

So, no x-rays of McH’s broken body to post.  No pictures of bruises.  He didn’t get hurt at all.  He thinks he may have cracked his opponent’s sternum.  I’m sure that makes him feel much better since he, McH, lost.  Yes, he apparently got several good hits in on the other guy, but the other guy didn’t even get one hit in on him.  At all.  The other guy, however, did get him in a choke hold that he couldn’t get out of, so he tapped.

Well, thank goodness there was a slight smidgen of common sense left in him and he tapped rather than continue to fight the situation.  I figure it must have been a pretty good choke hold, or he must have fought it pretty hard, because he has what looks like a hickey on his neck.  And trust me, he’s very hickey resistant.

Oooops.  There goes my mother, falling on the floor again.

Anyhooo . . . so McH says he can now cross this off his list of things he wants to do before he dies and he doesn’t plan to go again.  The other contestants, it seems, travel around the region with their trainers and coaches and whatnot, fighting in these things.  For a living?  I don’t know.  McH, of course, doesn’t have “people.”  Except for his wife and children, who weren’t there to watch him.  The menfolk in my family were there.   Whoop-de-doo.  Just goes to prove that all men are brain damaged.

While they were all at the fight I was left at home to put the kids to bed and try to distract myself from the worry and stress.  I read some of my latest book club book and was going to indulge in my one vice to boost my mood, but darn it, nothing was going my way yesterday.

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Evil doll.

And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.

10:08 PM | Add a comment | Read comments (2) | Send a message | Permalink | Trackbacks (0) | Blog it | Blue Barb

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