I find as I get older that fatherhood is little more than a series of painful reminders that I am, in fact, getting older. For example, I bought a tube of Ben-Gay this morning. I smell like a rotten candy cane, and that, as you know, is the scent of a convalescent home. Do you know how sad it is to buy a tube of analgesic ointment? What a crushing blow that is to one’s sense of youth and vigor? For what it has done to my spirit, I may as well have purchased a titanium hip and a portable oxygen tank.

It’s my son’s fault. He’s the one who challenged me. He’s the one who was talking all kinds of shit about how awesome it is to swing as high as the swings would let him and then jump off right at the apex.

I scoffed. “Pfft. Do you think you invented that game, dude? I’ll have you know that I still hold the swing-jumping distance record at Sycamore Elementary School. There’s a plaque on the playground with my name on it. So bow down, rookie.”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Watch this!”

With that my eight-year-old boy started to pump his legs forward and back, swinging higher with each kick, before, in one fell swoop, he launched himself from the flat rubber seat and landed about four feet in front of the divot beneath the swing.

He glared at me as if to say, “Beat that, grandpa.”

“Is that all you’ve got?” I taunted. “Step aside, youngster, and watch the master at work.”

As I walked across the carpet of soft bark that lined the playground, I came up with this list:

Things I Didn’t Tell My Son About Myself Before I Endangered My Life On The Swings

1) I haven’t been on a swing set in 25 years.
2) Coordination is not one of my strongest assets.
3) That whole thing about Sycamore Elementary? Total bullshit.
4) I might die if I try this.
5) If he tells anyone about what he’s about to see, I tell all his friends that he wants to marry that red-haired girl from That’s So Raven.

Do I even need to tell you what happened next? Isn’t it obvious? No?

I sat on the swing, pumped my legs a few dozen times, started soaring so high that the metal chains connecting the swing to the swing set started to groan.

“Come on, dad! Jump!”

“Relax,” I said.

At this point, all of the other moms, dads, and kids on the playground turned their attention to me. This was either going to be my greatest moment or the day I would rue forever.

As I poised myself to jump, I almost slipped out of the swing prematurely. But I held on, swung back and forth twice more, and then let go.

It was not a pretty dismount.

I was doomed from the start. Having forgotten the part about having to land upright, I left the swing in a fully horizontal position, poised to land on my back. I recognized this error in mid-flight and attempted to adjust my posture before touching down. Unfortunately, I over-corrected and was soon 180 degrees the opposite, facing down at the ground. I saw my wallet fly out of my pocket. I saw my limbs windmill in no particular order. I heard nothing but my own voice in slow motion. “Ohhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiittttttt…”

My right knee and shoulder took the brunt of the landing. In an effort to look like I had at least a modicum of control, I stood up before assessing the damage inflicted to my person. As I did so, I saw faces frozen in shock. My son was looking at my knee, and when I looked down to see why, I noticed three pieces of tree bark implanted in my patella.

I was dazed. My body had contorted in a way that it shouldn’t have, but that didn’t hurt half as much as the injury inflicted on my pride. My son had just witnessed my rapidly deteriorating youth in full effect. I might as well have stood there and crapped myself.

The door was wide open for him to deliver the kill shot: an insensitive remark or a hurtful assessment of my performance (or lack thereof). But bless his heart, the kid kept it short and sweet.

“You suck, dad!”

This morning I woke the sensation that there was a cement mixer parked on my right clavicle and an ice pick in my right knee. That’s why I bought the Ben-Gay.

And that’s why I’m writing this from the Shady Acres Convalescent Home For The Ignorant and Unfit.

Comments

It's been a while since I laughed so hard I cried. Ohhh, the mental picture of how that played out. Still giggling...

The heady aroma of "Aspercreme" reminds the wife of childhood (specifically her father coming home from softball). I came from more of a "Tigerbalm" household.

oh. my. You should try to confine these situations to times when I'm around. I would have been happy to tell my nephew how dorky you were when you were his age.

Tiger balm?

Yep, you might as well have stood there and crapped on yourself.

You had me laughing so hard with this post. Thank you. Your pain brought me joy. I know that's so wrong, but thank you.

I think the hardest part of swing jumping is untangling my arms from the chains before I jump. Somehow when I was 8 and weighed about 50 pounds it seemed a lot easier. I gave up swing jumping right around the time the warranty on my knees, ankles and spine expired.

That. Is. Awesome.

I attempted this not too many years ago on a glorious - albeit very late - honeymoon in Aruba. On a warm night, in an open air restaurant, my husband and I are enjoying our meals and each others company. A young girl at a table near by was suffering a horrible case of the hiccups - and me, being a expert in all things hiccup related, helped her get rid of them. As a thanks to me - she wanted to walk out with me in the sand and "play". I attempted to show her a cart wheel round house....I spent the remainder of our honeymoon in a knee brace - and every time I walked past anyone in the hotel they would ask "Oh hey, I saw you fall. Are you ok?"

Oh my god, I am dying at the thought of you windmilling your limbs in no particular order. And remember, we're laughing *with* you, not at you. [smirk]

OMG, I'm crying.

Sorry.

I'm there with you dude, but shit. Enjoy your time at the SACHIU. I'm sure many more of us will be joining you soon. We'll bring reinforcements of Ben-Gay and ice packs. Can someone remember the Depends?

Hilarious!! Thanks for a good laugh on a Monday!

Mannnn - I cannot *wait* until TAFKABBF dares you into a Cherry Drop contest.

Ok, now that you've reached a certain age, you should already be aware of the danger when hearing or uttering the phrases "watch this" or "hold my beer". These words are usually followed by a trip to the Emergency room.

I went bowling this weekend and I am still sore. I feel your pain.

The five day hiatus from your posting was worth the hilarity of this story. Danny Evans, you never cease to amaze us and humiliate yourself.

Ooooohhh yeahhh! That brought back memories from the time I aced a spectacular wipeout trying to set a new record at a local BMX track on a mountain bike! Lawd, good thing I was wearing my hemmet and shouldermapads...

The first thing out of your mouth upon standing up should have been "Well now that I've warmed up...!"

Good one, 'Crash' Evans!

Good God, man. What were you thinking?

Hilarious! Thanks!! :)

Oh my god that was so funny. Thanks for making me have to go redo my eye makeup.

OMG, Danny, I just found out last night that my crazy uncle who stays with us every Thansgiving is showing up a day early - as in today. NOTHING could make me smile today, let alone bust a gut laughing. But you did it and I thank you. I'm sorry you're in pain, but the picture in my head of your stunt will get me through a rough week...I'm so glad you suck.

Are there pictures?

You suck, old age.

Ha, I knew there was an upside to getting knocked up at 17! I can still pull off a spectacular swing jump to impress the hell out of my 5 year old. Thanks for the laugh, Old Guy.

I'm sending your son a video camera so he can start posting of this stuff on YouTube.

Hey, it has nothing to do with fitness. It's plain old physics. Sheer mass kicked your ass. Swing jumping is one of those sports best left to those under 100 lbs.

I would like to add that I beat our sons best jump and I am older than you. Ha!

Sorry to get pleasure from your pain but I laughed out load at work I found this so funny. Brings me back to the days at the park with my friends. Just waiting for the day when my daughter calls me on that. Just hoping I can keep a little self-respect. Way to take one for the team.

This is a time when LOL actually applies. I am crying.

Oh and Hot Wife? Nice work. Way to kick him when he's down. :)

I wish I could have been there. Too funny!

Bwahahaha! And OUCH!!

Try reading this in an office when you're not supposed to be reading this in the office and try not to rip a gizzard stifling total laughter and what you get are your sides in need of stitches and Kleenex for the tears.
OMG - that's classic!

Yes, but it COULD have been SUPER-sweet, couldn't it. You were SO close, man, so close.

Thanks for a GREAT laugh - there aren't many bloggers I find who can make me LOL, but you did the trick today. Heal well and fast, and don't worry about the smell, there are worse things you could smell like. Right now I can't think of what they are, but I'm sure there must be something. ;-)

For future reference:

In a pinch, I've discovered that Vicks Vapor Rub has the same effect as Ben-Gay. Without all those "Ben Gay" jokes.

I got a good LOL at the image of limbs flailing in no particular order. I'm also sitting at Panera right now, so I good a good amount of funny looks for that.

Hey, if it makes you feel any better? Ben-Gay is my best friend...and I'm only 22. It's the result of a job as a ballet dancer and not an ill-fated encounter with a swing set, but hey, at least you don't smell like week-old peppermints ALL THE TIME. :-)

Laughed my ass off! Getting older sucks!

i'm guessing i'm still young because i have no clue what ben-gay even is! ;)

oh, wait, i mean, that sucks.

You're supposed to leave 'em guessing, dude! Didn't you get that memo? Tell them how you can leap buildings and then...here's the kicker...WALK AWAY. That's "Aging 101." Sorry you missed it.

playing racketball with my 8 year old...and I feel like I was born in the 20's...

I too, suffered a fall this weekend. It was not nearly as badass as your story but I think anyone would need some ointment after an accident of that caliber! Hope you're okay! My knee looks and feels pretty lousy. Grace: I do not have it.

Yeah, but how far was your "jump"? That's what we really want to know.

That is fucking awesome. My stomach muscles hurt from laughing!

dude - that is exactly how i felt after a couple of hours of playing our new Wii game! I swear to God I think I have a rotator cuff injury as a result of either the tennis, baseball or golf.

What is it with you dads? My husband *cannot* back down from any kind of ridiculous challenge from one of his children. Then there's me in the background going "You realize you just beat a three year old at arm wrestling, don't you?" Just because your kid says "do it, dad" doesn't make it a good idea! :-P

This summer, I tried the "swing as high as you possibly can" thing because, hey, it was fun when I was a kid! The feeling that used to (at say 8) be described as "euphoria" or "freedom" could now only be described as "panic". I didn't jump off, but then, I'm not a dad.

Awesome.

No pictures = didn't happen.

Dude. Tiger Balm. That's what the athletes use. You gotta spin it!

It's your word vs. his. The injury is obviously from saving children from a burning building.

I love the John Mayer song lyrics you used as your blog title. It's one of my favorites. :-)

You crack me up. I am 19, and honestly. ...
this made me laugh so hard my side hurts. I can picture my dad doing the exact same thing. Keep it up "Grandpa" !!

=) Just kidding, I can't do it either..I actually have a phobia of jumping off the swing. sad =(

DUDE! OUCH! You learned a valuable lesson they neglect to teach in school. Gravity will not only make your body sag in too many very unattractive and sometimes disgusting ways but it also has the ability to reach up and grab you out of thin air and suck you down to the ground and turn you into a ball of smashed goo.

That was funny as hell. I've done the swinging and jumping thing, never the falling and needing medical attention thing. Much to my bride's annoyance I've always loved jumping off swings. She doesn't see the humor in teaching our son the finer points of jumping at just the right moment or the freedom of flying through the air. Oh, and I'm 33. She just doesn't get me.

As men get older (especially men) their competitive nature can get them in a world of hurt. My husband would have done the same thing, with pretty much the same results.