In honor of the final PGA Majors Tournament, I would like to share this classic Nonna memory…
In the summer of 1997, all five of Nonna’s grandchildren were gathered at her home. (Note: When all five of us get together something horrendous/outrageous/hilarious generally happens.) We were all playing outside when my sister Lauren (who was five at the time) grabbed a golf club. She was standing on the stairs swinging the club around when my cousin Frankie (who was seven) approached the stairs.
Obviously, Frankie got clipped in the head with the nine-iron…
Lauren, me, my sister Brittany and my cousin Michael (who was three) watched in horror as the blood began to flow down Frankie’s head and onto his white t-shirt (Note: Frankie wore white Hanes t-shirts pretty much every day until he was in the 11th grade). He honestly look like he got shot in the head.
We were all pretty much frozen as Frank began to cry and ran in the house…
Nobody moved…we anticipated the horror that was about to occur…
Frankie went into my grandmother’s basement, and from the front lawn, we all heard Nonna view Frankie’s traumatic head injury for the first time….
Brittany and I ran into the woods abutting Non’s house, Michael waddled somewhere because he was fatter than a Thanksgiving Turkey back in the day and Lauren remained on the porch holding the evidence.
Brittany and I watched from a distance as Nonna apprehended the little culprit…we half had some desire to save Lauren and half had a desire to hitch hike to California. Nonna screamed at Lauren on the front lawn and then…Nonna began calling MY name.
I approached the crazy woman cautiously…
Me: Yes Nonna?
Nonna: COME HERE. I GONNA SHOW YOU SOMETHING.
We walk downstairs where my cousin Frankie is sitting in the shower with the water on (and his white t-shirt on) and blood is literally washing over his body.
Nonna: LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID.
Me: What are you talking about? I didn’t hit him.
Nonna: You the oldest. You supposed to watchin everyone. And you letting your sister play with the golf club.
Me: I’m sorry.
Nonna: SORRY? YOU AUNT AND UNCLE NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE ME.
Me: I’m really sorry Frankie.
Nonna: YOU THINKIN THIS IS FUNNY
Nonna: WHY YOU NO CRY.
Me: (now beginning to cry) I’m really sorry, I should have watched better.
Nonna: GOOD. Now help me fix him.
Me: Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?
Nonna: WHAT?! I can close.
Nonna pulls Frank out of the shower gets a towel and proceeds to press down on his head for an hour. When she was tired, I took over. Finally the bleeding stopped. Nonna took out two butterfly closures from the dollar store and put them on Frankie’s head and told Frankie not to move.
The poor kid just sat there for the next five hours.
Nonna then called everyone to the table, made chocolate pudding and made us swear not to tell our parents about what happened.
Recently, Nonna and I spoke about this incident. Looking back, Nonna admits she probably should have taken Frankie to the hospital…when I asked her why she yelled at me when Lauren admitted to hitting him she said:
“Honey, Things are always gonna be your fault. You the old one.”
Me: Well then, shouldn’t you be in trouble because you weren’t watching us?
Nonna: Probably. But thats why I madin you all pudding…I make you forget one-two-three I did anything wrong.
1) When your child sustains an injury from a golf club, take them to the ER rather than make them sit in the shower, close with butterfly bandaids and have the kid remain seated for 6 hours.
2) Chocolate Pudding makes people forget you did anything wrong…
3) Everything is always my fault.