The Most Embarassing Firework Injury Ever – A Cautionary Tale
The Fourth of July, also known as “just a regular Friday” for all you awesome non-U.S. Mommyish readers) is my least favorite holiday. It’s bad enough that, much like New Year’s Eve, people treat Independence Day in America like amateur hour, day-drinking at 9 a.m. and generally causing chaos. But the worst part about the Fourth of July for me, are the barrage of fireworks injuries that will inevitably be reported before, during and after the celebration. According to this report from CBS Detroit, fireworks injuries are on the rise, and I’m not surprised. So in the spirit of the holiday, I’d like to recount the story of the time my husband Don, then a teenager, shot some bottle rockets out of his butt, burnt all his arse-hair off, and landed in the ER. Let’s call it a cautionary tale.
First, let me preface this by saying that this entire post was my husband’s brilliant idea, and he’s given me his blessing on all the details I am about to divulge. He’s a giver like that. He considers it his civic duty, and has been gleefully telling this story to whoever will listen since well before I met him.
That being said, I would wager to say, without any empirical evidence, that teenagers make up exactly 73.2 percent of all Fourth of July fireworks injuries. Obviously I just made that statistic up, but doesn’t it sound right? Just a quick Google search on last night’s festivities pulls up numerous examples, including one teen who got second degree burns on his hand, and another whose finger was blown clear off. I don’t think it’s a stretch of the imagination to say that, with few exceptions (like these inspirational boys who saved a drunken idiot from certain, alligator-related doom), teens are known for making epic, often news-worthy, mistakes. This isn’t in question and my husband has a highly embarrassing injury to prove it.
Yes, my lovely, adrenalin-junky husband Â managed to scare 10 years off his poor mom’s life by almost blowing his entire anus to smithereens. Let me paint a picture for you: it’s July 4th, 2000. Savage Garden is on the radio (probably) and since Don is from New Jersey, everyone is celebrating our country’s Independence from tyranny with body shots and bad decisions. This was around the time that MTV’s Jackass became all the rage, and (unfortunately for his anus) my husband was an early fan.
So it’s the Fourth of July and Don and his buddies (who are all between the ages of 15-17 but are illegally drinking because what else do teens have to do in the suburbs?) are hanging out, being idiots. Suddenly, perhaps inspired by the celebratory atmosphere (and probably too many Zimas) my husband gets the genius idea to launch some bottle rockets from his poop-hole. Now, at this point you’re probably thinking “So what, this is typical dumb teenager fare.” And you’d be right. But my husband has always been an over-achiever, and teenager dumbassery is no exception.
Not only did my husband decide to shoot dangerous, flaming fireworks out of one of the most sensitive orifices of his body, but he decided to up the Darwin Awards ante by seeing just how many he could fit up there. Turns out, a lot. According to Don, there was “an unfortunate misfire” and not all of the bottle rockets managed to leave his “corn-hole.” The largest one somehow exploded while it was still intimately acquainted with his brown eye, resulting in second degree burns on his ass cheeks and butt hole. According to Don, the smell of “singed ass hair” haunts his nightmares.
What’s the moral of the story? Well, for teens, it’s obviously “Don’t be a moron who puts explosives in your ass.” For moms and parents, all I can say is that never, ever underestimate the potential stupidity of teenagers. My husband is a highly intelligent, educated, self-made man who works with high-tech computer equipment all day long. He’s a freaking engineer. If there was a point where he thought shooting a half a dozen flaming-rockets-o-pain out of his asshole was a good idea, then any teen is capable of it. ANY teen.