The Empirical Manifesto

There I was, a couple of hours into Sunday maintenance when my son comes upstairs and has a seat behind me in the office. We exchange our usual pleasantries before he begins with, "I know we just went through this last week with my eye, but..."

I stop what I'm doing and turn around.

Laying in bed texting his friends, he decided to shower before dressing. He arose and made the u-turn from his bedroom to the hall bathroom, where dizzy from getting up out of bed so quickly, fell. His face struck the toilet, knocking him out cold, and puncturing a hole in his lip from a tooth. Approximately 10-minutes later according to his phone, he awoke with blood all over the floor, spitting it out of his mouth, and no idea what had happened.

He took the time to clean up all the blood, and as his face swelled up, reconstructed the probable events before coming upstairs to relate them to me, because as he correctly assumed, it was off to the emergency room once again. "I swear, if you survive puberty..." his mother quipped.

I was however very impressed with him when, answering the nurse's questions, admitted to smoking an e-cig with his friend the night before - news to his mother and I. I applauded his honesty in what must have been difficult with us both there.