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December 01 Ten Miles an Hour
Capt. Hubby and I were bent, heads together, over a shiny new treadmill in the local sports supply store. Our thirty-something acquisition of girth has got us talking about ways to lose it and buying a treadmill is my husband’s latest favorite remedy idea. As we pointed and chattered about the buttons and knobs, I was testing it out, slowly turning up the speed.
Fear gripped my buns as the rubber mat started turning under my feet. I took comfort in clutching the bars while multitasking over the digital display.
Suddenly, the chipper voice of Swabbie Two enthusiastically rang out somewhere in the space beyond Hubby’s body,
“Hey! I’m going to go Ten Miles an Hour!!!”
Hubby half turned as we promptly heard a salesman say, “I don’t think you want to do that!!!”
…Then, bionic slow mo……
Hubby’s body is propelled over the long row of treadmills and suddenly I see….
Swabbie Two,
on a treadmill,
cheerfully turning the knob….
up…
to….
Ten Miles an Hour.
The rest is history and a little…or a lot…of skin under the mill.
Ice packs, ibuprofen, aloe vera gel, a talk with a pharmacist, and lots of TLC later, Two kept telling the Capt. and I that it wasn’t funny, and we agreed, as we were unable to stop laughing every time someone repeated, “Hey! I’m going to go Ten Miles an Hour!”
Aside from the bodily care we have provided for her, we have chosen to let our 11, nearly 12, year old Swabbie take full mental responsibility for her actions. There has been some talk as we have related this story to others, particularly of our and the store’s irresponsibility in the matter. Hubby says that the store salesmen previously informed our bright young thing that she needed an adult present to try any of the equipment. Were we or the store negligent in our supervision of the child?
Her reasoning for thinking Ten Miles an Hour was an OK speed? That’s what Capt. Hubby says when someone is driving really slow; he or she must be going ten miles an hour. Ugh. We’ll be keeping a closer eye on her for awhile longer.
Some days you have to look extra for reasons to make your eyes smile. a Unintelligentcia 2005
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