February 5, 2000 -- 6:51 PM EST

I swear there must be some weird sort of quirk in the male mind that makes them do strange things that make no sense at all!

We went biking today with the idea of taking some photos around the the base and trying to cover ten miles before the sunset. We covered not quite six because our good friend Paul decided to pull....well, a PAUL and flew over his handlebars to kiss pavement.

I jerk to a stop, heart beating frantically, hoping he doesn't crack his head open because we aren't due to buy helmets till Valentine's Day and we are quite a ways from home and this is the LAST thing I need, an unconscious husband.

Me: Are you alright?! Did you hit your head?

Paul (rolling around in the street): Uggggh!

Me: Are you dead?

Paul: No, but now I am down to one pair of pants I can wear to work! I ripped both knees out!

Me: Your head ok? (Never mind why on earth he elected to wear work pants biking instead of grubby jeans.)

Paul: I think I've fallen enough times in my life to where I can try to not get my head.

Me: I'd wonder! Are they deep cuts? Is your wrist ok? Want to sit down?! What happened?!

We move over to a nearby picnic table and examine his hands and knees. Scrapes but not overly awful. Bike is fine.

Paul: I was playing around all this time with my back brake while biking because I like that whoosh noise it makes and then I was not paying attention to how fast I was going and I braked too hard with the FRONT brake and flew right over superman style.

Me: You scared me!

Paul: I'll be ok. But you know what was going through my head when I flipped?

Me: What?

Paul (laughing rather strangely): "Ohhhh shiiiit! Not AGAAAAAIIINNN!" From all the times before I've seen that point of view while flipping. Like deja vu... kinda fun!

Me: You are sick!

I brought him home and patched him up and now he's hobbling around with gauze pads on both knees and large bandages on both palms carrying the ice pack (now isn't he glad I found it in the wall unit!?) chuckling to himself irrationally.

He finds it hilarious that he kissed pavement. Like some weird kind of nostalgia for him from all the times he's injured himself at play as a kid. If he wasn't already banged up I'd whack him upside the head. I know all the scars on his body from those injuries and I don't want to think about some of them!

So while he is giggling to himself in the bedroom, I'm still in shock. The sight of my husband's body hurling through the air is not a sight I recall with giggles and fondness.

Punk! He's lucky it wasn't worse than it is!

Men are idiots. Bleah.

~Astrophe

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