A Real Kick In The Pants…

Yesterday I managed to injure the shit out of my leg.  Not my ankle, not my knee, not a small section of what someone would normally melodramatically call their “leg”… but my actual honest to God full on leg!  I have been in the process of slowly training for a 10k, and on this particular morning my leg decided to sprain itself into submission.  It hurts.  It is the kind of hurt that radiates heat.  It burns.  When pressure is put on a certain area of my foot (I like to refer to this area as “The Pain Button”) a shooting dart of agony rushes from my toe to my hip.  I wasn’t even able to go to work yesterday because of this ludicrous injury.  It is the kind of inconvenient hobble that warrants Tylenol (featuring codeine) and Crutches (however, I am too stubborn and lazy to use them.)

I did however, after the good ol’ R.I.C.E. (Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation.) treatment for all of yesterday, make it into work for the school day today.   I wouldn’t say I was full functioning; far from it.  I kind of hobbled about, like a peg legged pirate wincing  and grimacing  at neighboring sea-hags. I managed to get through the first part of my day in Kindergarten.  Partially because Sarah was being far too nice and not making me really do much that required a lot of walking/standing.  When It was time for my lunch break I went out to the lunch benches, pulled out some cherries and a book, elevated my injured leg on the bench and began to read.

I saw a pair of suspiciously dressy khakis coming towards me (they weren’t the usual pleated denim, but they looked similar in make…) I could see his arrival over the eye-line of my book.  I looked up to see none other than my boss.

He does not say anything to me, but instead KICKS me with great force on the bottom of my injured foot making sure to hit with full certainty and precision, “The Pain Button”.  He basically knocks the wind out of me.

“We do not let the Children put their feet on the bench…”

he says as he kicks my foot.

As I am trying to regain some semblance of airflow to my shocked lungs, I show him my brace and somehow manage to get the words out through silent tears that “I have sprained my leg!”

He looks at me.  He looks at my leg.

“Oh.  Now I feel bad.”

He walks away.

That was it.

I cried a little bit because of the pain.  I was comforted by a coworker who had overseen our interaction.  She was thinking the same thing I was…being:

a) UM… He is a Douchebag.


I managed to hobble myself back into the Kindergarten room after grabbing a much needed Ice-Pack to numb out some of the inflicted pain from my boss’ Kickery.

When I reiterated the story to Sarah, she used the term “Flabbergasted”… which she followed with “I don’t even USE that word, yet it completely fits this situation.”


The more I think about it the whole situation is completely ridiculous.  You should never kick anyone, unless maybe you are kicking a burly scary dude trying to club you over the head in a back alley somewhere, or some Molestache who is trying to “get fresh” with you when you are already clearly fresh enough.  There are exceptions to every rule, but my particular situation does not seem to ring clear with any of these so called acceptable “in the event of…”‘ excuses.  We work at a school.  I spend a large portion of my day telling children to use “Gentle Hands” and to “Keep their Bodies to Themselves.”  (ie. no kicking!!) Maybe it’s time Boss-man went back to Kindergarten and learned some manners. He clearly needs a refresher course.

Such as:

No Kicking.

Use Your Words, Sir.

AND… learn how to say “I’m Sorry.”

Until then, maybe I should wear shin guards during my lunch break… hell, maybe even a helmet.  You never know when someone might communicate to you where your head “…isn’t supposed to be.”  EEK.


~ by soartsyithurts on January 10, 2009.

2 Responses to “A Real Kick In The Pants…”

  1. […] what ever happened with that whole “kicking incident”, mentioned in my entry “A Real Kick In The Pants.” I wish I could report that it was taken care of smoothly, and that I got a nice apology and […]

  2. I’ve read this story a few times, now, but each time I am shocked and simultaneously almost pee my pants. This is the most ridiculous story EV-ER. I can’t even believe this man…I’m just…speechless. Well, almost. First I have to say: Disciplinary Action, and then I can be speechless.

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