. Children of the concrete jungle don't usually have pools. But that does not stop them for wanting $1 pool noodles. This summer I picked some up and allowed the kids to beat the hell out of each other with it, laughing the whole way. Little did I know on that hot summer's day watching my kids run around the apartment with cut noodles in different colors swatting them around like nun chucks that one day I would find myself desperately searching for those same foam pieces at 2AM on a cold December night to try to help their older brother. Jason throws his leg over the bed and bangs his shins and calves to the point that they are purple and bruised. The hospital has no provisions for this. They have no idea what to do.
Thinking out the box to stop Jason from banging his legs on the metal bed I went home yesterday to dig through the kids toy box. I found (3). (3) pieces of a $1 noodle that i sliced up the middle with surgical scissors and taped to the metal part of his bed to protect him. I feel proud of myself. I feel good. I inspired the nursing supervisor to either get some or talk to the administration to make a provision to protect that part of the bed for other patients. Nothing else is going right about this situation but I stopped him from banging his legs and maybe helped someone else out there figure out how to better protect their loved one.
Now some rich bastard will patent this idea and make it his own, or someone will bring it to the attention of shark tank and my broke ass will watch it offered next year this time at every hospital in the free fucking world for three installments of $19.99.
When I am done paying these medical bills and I am the little old lady selling 50 cent ices on the beach trying to buy a can of cat food for dinner: You are welcome.
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