Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Bonk Eye


Recently, I've noticed something.
That, in itself is remarkable.
Moving on . . .
I work with a group of elderly people.
Some of them like nothing better than talking about their health.
Or lack thereof.
I've been treated to stories of gall bladders.
Knees.
Hips.
Hearts.
Mysterious lumps.
And a plethora of aches and pains.
I cluck sympathetically.
Knowing that each of these ailments will probably visit me at some point.
But what is truly remarkable is the fact that the very young people I also associate with, ie. my grandchildren, are equally interested in their health.
Scrapes, bruises and cuts are examined minutely and then displayed, accompanied by a lurid tale of woe.
Often.
Sometimes, a tiny wound might go undetected for several days. Have scabbed over and be well on its way to healing. But once discovered, it must be fussed over and bandaged and kissed.
Several times.
My two-year-old granddaughter had fallen and bumped her head.
Just above her eye.
After the initial tears and hysteria, she had examined her wound in the mirror.
There was a distinct bruise above her eye.
“Mom!” she said loudly. “Bonk eye!”
Her mother agreed that, yes, she had 'bonked' her eye.
But that wasn't enough.
She had to tell everyone in the room.
Several times.
Later, at dinner, she mentioned it again.
Several more times.
Her uncle Tristan, having been at an activity, was late to dinner.
He slid into his chair and started dishing out food.
Here was someone new to tell.
“Unca Tristan!” she said, “Bonk eye!”
Tristan looked at her. “Yes, I see that you bonked your eye,” he said. He started eating.
“Unca Tristan, look! Bonk eye!”
“Yes,” he said.
“Bonk eye, Unca Tristan!”
“Yes.”
She took a couple of bites of food. Then, “Unca Tristan!”
“I know,” he broke in, rather wearily.
“Bonk eye!”
“Yes.”
This went on through the remainder of the meal.
And every time we saw her for the next few weeks.
Long after the slight bruise had healed.
And until the next injury pushed it off the front page.
Then it was, “Unca Tristan! Look!”
He looked at me. “On, man. Are we going to have another chorus of 'bonk-eye'?” he said.
I laughed.
Health issues.
Most important at each end of the age scale.
Differing only in seriousness.
Not in concern.

6 comments:

  1. And we poor souls in the middle could be dying but noone gives a flying fig about it...look Diane...bonk eye.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ohhh . . . poor Delores! I'm stuck in the middle with you!

      Delete
  2. The old folks remind me of ol' 'Grandpa Balog,' the one who drove his old truck at 15 mph and all you could see behind the wheel was a hat and a pipe. He enjoyed poor health right into his 90s. Willard Swanson asked him how he was doing one day. "Oh my leg is bothering me."

    "But you were complaining about the other yesterday."
    "Yes, but it's this one today."
    And his youngest grandson picked up the torch when he was starting school and carries on the tradition today.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yep. It's an art form. Or an Olympic event!

      Delete
  3. Oh kids lol
    They do like you to stop and actually look and make a fuss. Otherwise they think you don't understand the importance of BONK EYE ! lol
    Old people are the same. I had one old blind woman who ordered hard boiled eggs which the cook never cooked and had to do separate So it took long to make and I had to tell her I didn't forget her every time I walked by or she would get mad and throw all her food on the floor.
    Life!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Soooo entertaining. And at the same time . . .

      Delete

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