Some volunteer, whom I will name either "Private Prickhead" or "Airman Assface"... must have been in a rush to get his job done so he could go wank-off, or engage in some other form of prickishness, failed to properly lock the legs of the bench, so that when someone sat on it, it would not collapse. The victim? My poor little nauseated boy.
He hit the ground with a great crash, and began to scream. Thinking that where I saw the immediate blood was the problem, I looked in his mouth- where he now has two chipped teeth. I set him on the table, and turn to the closest vendor- where he feels the need to announce "It's not our fault, we didn't put that together", (like I give a shit), and another man behind the counter does something useful and hands us some ice. Heidi, as incensed as I am, tells the old fart, "We didn't say it was your fault- can you tell us who is responsible, so we can talk to them?!" (What kind of asshole sees a little kid screaming in pain and bleeding, and the first thing into his head is "Wasn't me". Fuck-bag. Brenden is not only howling in pain, but does see that EVERYONE else in the tent has stopped and it is looking at him, which only makes it worse.
Brenden's eye, by this time, is growing a lovely goose egg, and he is still wailing. Now, he is a tough kid, and he rarely keeps crying when he is minorly hurt, and I am beginning to think we will be spending the rest of the afternoon in the ER. Brenden is not only howling in pain, but does see that EVERYONE else in the tent has stopped and it is looking at him, which only makes it worse.
Heidi, always thinking on her feet, mentions that there are medics on site, and we got out in search of one, as well as the fuck-bags who ARE responsible for the set up of the tent, so I can yell at someone, (and let them know that a problem exists, as any civilly responsible person would).
At least the kiddo had forgotten about his tummy ache. The medic said he was fine, and we got a half-assed apology from someone who was in no position to be in charge of anything, and therefore not the right person to make an apology about anything. I was, and still am, way pissed off about the whole incident.
Poor little-man- he was still crying in pain, and now upset that we had to come home; whimpering through his tears that now he was gonna miss all the fun. His eye knot was turning purple, and I could tell he was trying so hard to be brave. We grabbed the kids some cotton candy, and headed back for the car, Brenden still crying that his eye hurt so very bad.
We may try to go back tomorrow in the early hours for him, so he doesn't feel like he got gipped... I feel like he got gipped.
A final note to whatever your name is who was responsible for putting up the tables and chairs at the freedom fest 2005- the shithead who put up the benches at very the rear of the tent, on the left hand side near the small beer and burger vendor ... You're an asshole!! You owe my kid and my family an apology. You also should apologize to the Watsons for making them worry. You should grovel at the feet of my five year old daughter, as your carelessness put a rapid halt to her fun, as she was out playing midway games with her daddy. It could have been a lot worse- my poor son could have suffered a concussion or lost teeth or a broken bone- all because you had to be a gigantic negligent imbecile, and do slipshod work, instead of taking the 1.5 extra seconds to ensure a latch was locked. I hope your ballsack runs into a hungry and pissed off pit bull, you jerk.