How I Got Beat Up on My Daughter’s Birthday

This blog post contains adult language. I would say “inappropriate language” but the swears within are perfectly appropriate for what happened.

Consider yourself warned.

Yesterday was the little’s 8th birthday.  We had her party the day prior for family, but yesterday my husband and I both took the day off to spend the day with the kids for her birthday.  This in itself was a treat, as we typically have opposite schedules, and the kids rarely get us both for an extra day unless it’s a holiday or birthday.  We started the day off with gifts, then headed off to do what she wanted.

Aside from a quick trip at the Rec office, which is where in my last post you’ll hear about me yelling at a stranger across a counter, the rest of the day was on 8 year old terms.  Lunch was at Taco Bell, followed by some shopping at Justice with her gift cards, where she got to pick out what she wanted, and then off to the trampoline park for 2 hours of jumping and games.  The kids ran off to play dodgeball on the trampolines, while my husband I relaxed at a table.  I noticed some massage chairs and commented we should go relax after all our hard work at the party the day before and get a massage.


chairWe lugged our stuff over, and my husband sat down.  He put in his dollar, handed one to me, and I went to put my dollar into the slot. Just as my dollar slid in, my husband said “oh, OW! Jesus!” and he began to warn me that this chair was no joke…in fact, perhaps I shouldn’t do it because I have  bad back and it could be bad……

The chair gave zero fucks.

The leg massagers clamped together with such force I couldn’t move my legs.  I was nervous they might break my leg if they got any tighter. “Oh my God!  My legs!” I squealed.

The chair tilted back suddenly and hard nodules started pummeling my back from every angle. “ow, ow!  OW!” I gasped.

I couldn’t move though.  It had my legs. It was NOT LETTING GO.

Now, the fact I am really short didn’t help.  The chair was probably at some point trying to massage my neck, only I’m so short it instead punched me in the back of the skull repeatedly.  My head was bouncing all over the place and I began to laugh because the whole situation was so ridiculous. As I am getting punched in the occipital bone repeatedly, I try to look at my husband and the chair effectively punches me in the cheek.  My husband is clearly not comfortable either but is holding it together.  I hear him go “aaarghhh” and “oof” but he is leaning far forward to escape the beatings.

With my short little legs captured by the chair, and the position I was in, I couldn’t lean forward.  I was laughing maniacally, my eyes watering from the discomfort. The whole situation was ridiculous.  I was trying to have nice relaxing massage and instead wondered if I might end up in the ER.

Y’all, that was a long 3 minutes.

3 minutes of getting my legs clamped on so hard I feared a bone might fracture, while the back of the chair beat me like an escaping prisoner.

Finally, the legs started to release.  I thought it was over.

And then it happened.

The chair punched me in the snooch.

No lie, I got cuntpunched by a damned massage chair.

The level of shock I had was indescribable.

My husband saw my face open up into a look of disbelief and I stammered “It punched me in the snooch”. THE CHAIR PUNCHED ME IN THE LADY BITS. He helped me gingerly stand up and the two of us hobbled away like two broken beating victims and went to sit back at the table.  We couldn’t stop laughing.

I woke up today still sore.  My whole body hurts.

And that my friends, is how I got beat up on my daughter’s birthday.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s