Milk is Best When Cycled Through the Sinuses

My mom decided to pick up tennis again, so I packed a tennis racket and brought it to Korea.  Our first day using the racket involved sneaking into a high school while school was in session.  We just ambled in like we were a part of the staff.  I wanted to try some goalie reflex drills I’ve seen Ryan Miller do on some training video, although I never played goalie, and I think goalies are deviant silent-types who do things like the drill below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZ410r-y-_o

So here I go, fantasizing about hoisting the Stanley Cup, and suddenly a wet black explosion enters my face.  I fall to a knee.  My nose is running, and I’m tearing, and behind me is my mother in paroxysm of laughter, grabbing her belly because she can’t help how ridiculous this situation was.

I exaggerated my pain and told my mom she needs to be more careful, but pretty soon I was laughing.  On our way back, PE was starting for these high school kids, and we were cutting right through the track.  My mom yells at some of the boys, “Hey!  How come you let these girls beat you?  What kind of students are you?”  She laughed, and they stared at her in silence, just blank stares. 

When we got home, she was eager to talk to her friends about her wicked forehand shot to my nose.  I poured her some milk, and as she was recounting her shot, milk exploded out of her nostrils, and again, convulsions of laughter. This has nothing to do with the travails of writing, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.