mostly about helmets

Standard

I got home, and there were strange folk afoot. I was a bit…perturbed. The natural solution now is obvious…pop two blocks over to my brothers, let myself in with his spare key, and call my parents to either see if they were expecting this or inform them that all of our things were probably no longer ours.

That was not my response. I crept up to my apartment attempting to kind of squat my way up the stairs. My door was left unlocked (gasp) so I had to check under the bed and in the shower quickly while getting my old softball helmet on.

Ahm. Let me take a minute to describe said helmet: it is bright red with American flag art painted on it. Kind of abstract, ya know? I spent some time on a patriotic themed competitive team. It also has a facemask like a football helmet because of the time I broke my cheekbone.

So. Back to where we were. I’m sitting in the back corner of my room with my helmet on and my bat laying beside me. I may or may not have a blanket on my head. So I call my dad, with my voice kind of echoe-y from the helmet and stuff.

Oh. I should mention the peanut butter. When I eat peanut butter, I get hiccups. And I had eaten a sandwich with peanut butter and…you know what? Not important…with peanut butter on it just before I came home.

So I’m calling my dad from under a blanket wearing a ‘merica helmet. And I begin to hiccup violently. To the extent that my helmeted head knocks into some wall art, which crashes noisily into my helmet. It’s just all so much loud. My dad is confused. Particularly since he knew that people were coming to work on our house today. He did, in fact, give them a key. He asks if I am okay, kind of dubiously.

I’m not though. I haven’t had caffeine in 24 hours. I know there is a Dr. Pepper in the fridge in the house. I am consumed with the desire to go get it. Here comes the question of the day:

Why on earth did I not take off the helmet?

We may never know. I’m sure the painters are wondering as well. Particularly since I was hiccupping so violently that I tripped over a step and fell a little bit in the middle of the kitchen. Which was loud, again because of the helmet.

Yeah. I did make it back safely with my drink. And the hiccups got embarrassed away, maybe. Two things have become clear:

I have to use extreme caution to never interact with these workers again.

It is a very good thing that I didn’t get the chance to whack anyone with the bat. I probably would have somehow managed to light something on fire.

(additionally we can conclude that I am not, as of now, an adult. Keep the dream alive)

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