Once upon a time, I trained in Krav Maga. As a Krav practicioner, I learned to fight against knives, guns, fists, feet, even long sticks. I would fight against the biggest fuckers in the room, and out work them. I would fight against the fastest fuckers in the room, and overpower them. I was everyone's favorite training partner because I brought a physicality and "realness" to the training.
So why do I say all of this? Because my son broke my nose.
Now for those uninitiated, my son is two and half years old. And for the record, I earned it.
About a month ago, I was trying to get my son to sleep. Anyone with a toddler knows that this is no easy task. Unfortunately, he will usually run around and play for 30-45 minutes before he sleeps. Even then, he struggles to fall asleep until something happens and he throws a mini-tantrum.
Knowing this, and being the horrible parents that we are, my wife and I will sometimes provoke our son. We aren't necessarily rude about it, but we will insist that he sleep. That is usually all it takes. There are other times that we will lay down in his room. Our son gets mad because he knows we are ready to sleep, and he does not want to. For the record: do not do this.
One night, I decided to lay down. Normally, this would not be a terrible ordeal. I lay down, my son gets upset, he realizes he needs to sleep, and he passes right the fuck out. Unfortunately, on this night, my son decided to climb into a chair in his room. As he starts climbing into the chair, I start to legitimately fall asleep in his room. As I am starting to dose off, I see my son open his arms wide. That's fine, he likely wants help into the chair. Right? Wrong!
My son decided to swan dive backwards, off the chair and into the bed. The bed that I was laying down in. He landed, I saw black, and I immediately yelled "fucker!" I wasn't yelling at him, mind you, but out of pain. My boy started crying, and I hugged him to make sure he was okay. My wife runs up, and I tell her to take care of the kiddo.
I immediately run to the bathroom, in case I have a concussion. As it turns out, I did not. I did, however, have a broken nose. While my pupils were not dilated, my nose was shifted a solid half centimeter to the right.
We managed to calm my son down and get him to sleep. I had surgery to fix my nose a few days later, and proceeded to spend a week in a nose splint. I'm healed up now, so that's cool.
Moral of the Story: I'm trained to fight grown-ass people with weapons, and my two-year-old son was able to break my nose. Also, never fall asleep before your toddler. Ever. Snort coffee or something, but never.
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