After being discharged from the ER, his most recent attack a mere memory, Chaos seemed to joy himself on the fact that Daddy had to go through a psychiatric evaluation and counseling since nobody believed that a three year old was capable of inflicting such carnage upon an adult. My head was still throbbing after being whacked by my own frying pan, wrapped up in layers of gauze I looked like a Jihadist buffoon. My aft-end, swollen and stitched up like one of Grandmas quilts, I looked as if I had been stabbed repeatedly by a group of knife wielding oompa loompa's. Reeking of Garlic infused EVOO and the discharges of his breast fed counterparts in parental terrorism, all I wanted was a hot shower and a nap. I was exhausted, beaten and drained. Unable to defend myself let alone mount a counter-offensive, the leader of the parental terrorism cell began plotting his next attack. The turd was sporting a set of horns in an attempt to project himself as a cheery reindeer. Knowing his propensity for violence, my attempts at remaining alert in a my sleep deprived state proved futile.

I was sitting on the couch recuperating from the carnage inflicted upon me by chaos I could not help look but look into his adoring blue eyes and remind myself how cute he truly is. Nothing can melt your heart like your child telling you that he loves you. My ass full of stitches and a bloodstream full of narcotic painkillers, my ego ruthlessly mangled was sitting at my feet. He was holding my fingers and standing between my knees, looking into my eyes, squeaking out repeated "lubby doo's". Staring into my soul he told he wanted to hug me and I readily agreed. Using the fingers he was holding as handrails, he vaulted himself towards my lap, both feet landing on my thighs. Then the feeling of vomiting began to overtake my consciousness as I felt his foot sliding inward. It was a sickening feeling knowing there was no way I would be able stop the 44 lb. pile driver from flattening my wedding tackle. His rate of descent was only slowed by the resistance of the couch cushion refusing to compress any further. I started to scream in pain when I came to the sick realization that both of my sphincter muscles were open and in complete defiance of both gravity and vacuum........nothing was leaving either orifice. Before gravity was able exercise its basic principles, Chaos jumped in jubilation, thus managing to hydraulically force one of the seed making orbs that brought his little ass into this world, out my rectal regions at warp speed, milliseconds prior to slamming shut. With one of my sphincters shut this allowed a sudden pressure build up forcing out a high pitched scream that shattered the television screen. Thinking Daddy was reacting in a positive way to his jumping the little fart turned into a human jack-hammer. My wife said she had never seen anyone pass out as fast as I did. Regaining my consciousness I realized I was lying on the floor in the fetal position, reminiscent of the days when I drank myself into this same position. Somehow I managed to traverse the expanse of the upstairs area and ended up in the dining room. Chaos, proudly telling Mommy that Daddy could fly. Calling me a wuss and not understanding how anything could hurt that bad, Melanie told me to get off the floor and act like a man.  I attempted to speak, but was only capable of drooling, much a being stoned out of my skull and wanting a bag of Doritos and a chocolate shake. Quivering in pain my nemesis was sitting on me and telling how Mommy was letting him wear his "Thomas" underwear today. Until then I had not noticed he was sans diaper. It was also when I thought I heard him say "ooops."
I was slowly slipping into the much desired slumber I had been longing for. The images of a long hot shower filled my mind and slowly began to ease the tense muscles in my neck and upper back. Turning my to head to allow the shower to beat upon face suddenly the flow of water began to recede. Opening my eyes, there he he stood with his underwear down around his ankles proudly proclaiming he went potty without a diaper. Please help me......please.

Chaos strikes again!

I lay in the ER, fraught with pain. Awaiting the next injection of morphine in hopes that it quells the indignity as much as the pain. The Doctor, trying to be as understanding as possible asked me again how the accident happened, this time I could sense it was more for his own twisted comedic sense than for official purposes.
The xrays did not look good. Trying not to smirk, the radiologist clearly stated in medical terms what the xrays had shown. In layman terms, I had broken my Ass. Topping off the indignity, I was lying facedown on a triangular shaped foam wedge, my ass sticking up in the air like Mt. Vesuvius as a surgeon was pulling HotWheels from my Gluteus Maximus (heavy on the maximus) muscles. Solace came to in small measures, such as when, with one foot on my right butt cheek and pulling with all his might on an embedded Lego brick, it suddenly broke free sending the surgeon across the room into the cabinet, nearly knocking him out. I had demanded that the Police be there as I wanted to press assault charges on the person who had inflicted this act of treachory upon my rectal region. The cop turned out to be as twisted as the doctor, asking me if assault started with ASS as he hid his giggling face behind his clipboard. The cop, again giggling, re-iterated what I had previously stated, 1) that the assailant (he continually pronounced it as ASS-ailent) had brown curly hair, 2) that the assailant was male, 3) the assailant had blue eyes, 4) and yes the assailant is three years old. I had to sheepishly explain that yes, this was not the first time the alleged assailant assaulted me and yes this was the second time the assault took place on or near the staircase in my house. Adding to their amusement, I explained the first attack in detail hoping that they would understand the scope of "Chaos'" deviant nature. The surgeon, sitting on the floor rubbing his head haltingly asked "Consorzio"?  "Yes, Consorzio" to which the nurse, who had for the most part been silent until now asked "do you mean the extra virgin olive oil kind of Consorzio?" "Yes" I stated. Snorting and possibly losing some snot in doing so, the nurse broke out laughing and quickly left the room to regain her composure. Then I began the demoralizing venture of explaining the latest attack. I awoke early in the morning somewhat thirsty. I arose from bed and was quickly consumed with fear. I groped around on the floor next to the bed for a flashligh and furiously fumbled for the button to turn it on. I scanned the room and the path I wanted to take for potential boob-e-traps, recently renamed on behalf of "Chaos" for making adults look like "boobs." Approaching the stairwell, I studiously looked for trip wires and the "shit-bombs" that have assailed the senses prior. Seven steps to the landing, and a heightened sense of fear gripped me as I entered the area of my until then greatest defeat. My gray matter began flooding with the terror filled memories and "scents" of that fateful night. Covered in garlic infused olive oil and the discharges of diapers filled by breast fed babies, two words came to my immediate attention......Garlic Shit. I regained my composure and ascertained that, for the moment I was safe. Turning left and approaching the remaining seven steps I slowly began my ascent, my thirst increasing exponentially. Before stepping into the expanse of the upper floor, I studiouly studied the floor then slowly reached down and physically touched the floor looking for the Consozio. As Instinctivly as the "nasty girl digging in her butt" who was caught scratching her ass on a security video, I smelled my fingers......no garlic scent. Feeling safe and away the staircase I walked towards the kitchen to fetch me a glass of water. Entering the kitchen I remember the brief feeling of floating like an astronaut in space. Knowing I was not an astronaut and beginning to feel like an Ass-tronaut I began to suspect danger. That feeling was confirmed 3 milli-seconds later when I crashed to the floor onto what was later estimated to be 143 HotWheels, Thomas Trains and Lego bricks fatefully registering a 3.2 on the richter scale. Writhing in pain and moaning, I started to fade in and out consciousness when I remember seeing Chaos standing over me. "Daddy, can I have a cookie?" Unable to move, much less argue with the friggin turd I realized that in my incapacitated state I could still mount a counter offensive against this parental terrorist. "Sure, go ahead and have a cookie...grab two while you are at it." Knowing his propensity for violence against me, I seek revenge when and where possible. So am I evil for seeking vengenance against him by "allowing" to have a cookie after nearly killing me...NO, not when they are "chilli chocolate cookies from Peachey Perfections." Watching the drool spill from his mouth brought about a small measure of vigillant justice. Running down the stairs crying for his mommy, I lay there, alternately giggling and crying out in pain. The doctor then asked, "if you landed on your backside, how do you explain the injury to the front of your head?" Now thoroughly embarassed and with a cop, two doctors and a nurse laughing their collective asses off I came to the sad realization that Chaos had inflicted more than pain...he had inflicted "sheer humility." I tried to tell them that "you do not understand, you have no idea what this person is like" this is when I heard the doctor quietly tell the officer "it's the morphine." It was at this moment I realized that legal intervention was looking bad.  I explained that he had a hired a security detail similar to the rogue orgainizations hired by our government in Iraq. This perked the police officers attention and he inquired the name of this orgainiztion. I told him it was his mother. I do not know how or why but the surgeon fell from the rolling stool he was sitting on. The rogue detail had taken my Stainless Steel Jamie Oliver frying pan and leveled one good whack to the forehead. "what the hell are you doing letting him have a cookie at three o'clock in the morning and WHY did you give him a chili chocolate cookie AND WHY are you lying on the kitchen floor. I will get you Chaos.......I will get you!