First aid (and other disasters)

Mark recently took a first aid class, to earn his Cub Scout Readyman activity pin. He was kind of excited about the class -- before attending, that is.

"Where's the class again?" he asked.

I told him, and he laughed out loud.

"At the silly college?" he called back to me.

"No, CITY college," I corrected. Unfortunately, his misnomer set the tone for the day.

I dropped him off with the other Cub Scouts, and enjoyed a leisurely morning to myself. When I picked up Mark and his friend Sean, I learned that first aid is very, very, totally, extremely waaaaaay boring. They were almost offended that I'd sent them to a potentially life-saving class.

"What'd you learn?" I asked, and they answered "Nothing!" in unison.

"Really?" I asked. "So, if I was laying on the ground dead, could you save me?"

"Not if you were dead," Sean answered, and I thought, Duh! That was a dumb question!

"What if I were bleeding?" I asked.

"Yes, then we could tie some gauze around the cut," Sean answered.

"And if we don't have any gauze, we could use our shirts!" Mark piped in.

"What if you're not wearing a shirt?" I asked.

"Then we'll use our pants -- I mean, our SOCKS!" he answered, obviously embarrassed at the thought of taking off his pants to save his own mother.

"Do me a favor," I told him. "Don't use your socks on me. I've smelled those things -- I think I'd rather die!"

The boys both laughed. I asked them what else they'd learned, and they told me about the disgusting dummy they had to breathe into. Sean also admitted to exploring the dummy's nose cavity, and I was relieved to hear he hadn't found anything inside.

"What about if I were choking?" I asked. "What would you do?"

Without hesitation, Mark jumped behind me, and I suddenly had a tiny fist shoved up into my rib cage. He tried freeing the pretend choking hazard, and set me to coughing.

"This is called the Lick Maneuver!" he shouted excitedly.

"The Heimlich Maneuver," I corrected. "Wow, that does not feel good!"

And then the lessons stopped abruptly. Mark changed the subject, pointing out a kid passing by.

"That kid's name is Lame!" Mark whispered.

I looked at the boy's name tag. "No, it's Liam," I told him. "Not Lame!"

"Oooooh!" Mark nodded. "I thought maybe his mom was just really mean!"

And with that, the two boys ran off. They'd spent a sunny Saturday morning in class, and were ready to run and play. I herded them away from the parking lot (didn't want to practice any first aid lessons so quickly after class), then took them home, where they spent the next couple hours racing around the backyard and wrestling in the grass.

I'm glad that they actually did learn some life-saving skills. But watching them wrestle and chase each other like a couple wild banshees, I just hope I'm not the recipient of any of those new skills!