Sam has continued on with our annual “tradition” of ushering summer in with some kind of injury (and I will add that it usually IS Sam!). This time, he wrecked on his bike and ended up getting three stitches in his…scrotum. Poor kid, he hit the handlebars just right and ripped a hole in it, just under his right testicle. He was very brave, all things considered, and it was all very much the Man’s Club there at the ER. Steve and the doctor and Sam and Owen, all huddled together discussing the injury with great gravity (well, not Owen-he just wanted to know what was going on). I felt very superfluous, to be honest, and actually have had to deal with a few hurt feelings over the whole incident.
How to explain this without sounding whiny? Maybe there is no way. So let me say right up front here that I was glad Steve came to the ER, glad that Sam feels so comfortable with him that they could sit there and commiserate with one another (and let me ask this: does EVERY man have some kind of testicle injury about which to brag?) about his manly parts. Am more than grateful that the two of them are really finally getting along; all of that is so, so true. Yet also true is the fact that for 12 years, Sam has been mine. For good or ill, I haven’t had to share him with anyone, his biological father being the person he is. And that has been a mixed blessing, of course, like most blessings are. So it’s a little bit disconcerting to be summarily dismissed from something that up until this week would have been what I thought was MY rightful place.
No matter. All is well, and as my friend Janet told me at lunch today, no parent is immune to those feelings. She and her husband have been married for 30 ish years and have one son, and she admitted to feeling jealous at times when the two of them talk for hours about whatever it is they talk about. That made me feel better, less insane, because Janet is one of the most together people I know and if SHE feels like that sometimes, then it must be ok. Not ideal, of course, but ok. Better to know the dem
So. Sam is home nursing a very sore nut sac, and he has somehow wheedled Steve into letting him keep this kitten we were “blessed” with, and I just feel pretty happy, hurt feelings aside. I don’t pretend to think that everything is going to be easy all the time, that they will get along perfectly and Steve will fill the hole left by Sam’s dad. But I am also smart enough to be grateful that in this case, he could give Sam something I couldn’t, and I am glad.