Chapter 8 Practicing the ABC's
A/N: Don't own him, can't lend him, the usual stuff. No offense to any products listed, not responsible if you try any of this at home, yada yada yada. . . .
Look, Legolas, you got 100 reviews! Thank you all so much!
(Thank yourself too, Mr. Smarty-Pants. That's what I get for letting someone else watch you while I go to work. I know you had help, and I know who it was! You would never spell "that" or "car" correctly, not to mention substituting "ewe" in there. But I know who would! )
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After the barrage of questions stops, I say to Little Pip, "You know, you really should tell Prance Legolas you are pleased to meet him as well." I wink at the Prance, who is a bit rattled by the flurry of words that had been flying through the air moments ago.
"Oh," says Pip, "sorry! I am very glad to meet you too, Prance Legolas."
" U ar a deelite, Ladie Leedle Peep," he says, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. His smile would light up a football field.
Pip turns to me and whispers, "Momma, he KISSED my hand!"
" I know!" I exclaim. "And the best part is. . . Elves don't have any cooties!"
She grins up at me. " I don't have to go wash?"
"Nope!" I reply. "And even better, he LIKES to play with Barbie!"
"REALLY?!" she gawks. "Can he come in my room and play with me?"
"Why don't you ask him?" I urge.
Soon they are sitting happily in the middle of Pip's bedroom floor, surrounded by layer upon layer of Barbie clothes, and Barbie furniture, and Barbie cars, and Barbie hairbrushes, and so on, and so on, and so on. . .
I spend the time they are using to get acquainted by working on e-mails and instant messaging Yes Dear. Around 6:00 pm I get the message I have been dreading all day. "I'm on the way home," it reads. The jig is up.
"Pip," I call towards the bedroom," your Daddy is on the way home."
"Can I go out on the deck and watch for him?" she asks.
"Sure," I reply halfheartedly.
"Kin I goe oudsied tu?" asks Legolas.
"Can you hide when the car comes up?" I ask him.
"Shur!" he replies confidently. " I deed a guud joeb hiedin in da vaen din't I?"
I didn't need the reminder of the double heart attack I almost had when at first I couldn't find him, and then when I did. "Yes," I say with a smile, "you are an excellent hider."
"Furst, I muest goe tu da bafroom," he whispers, blushing. "Wade fur mie, Peep!"
"I'll be right out here!" hollers Little Pip.
He gives me a look of frustration and worry at being left behind. "Don't worry, she won't go anywhere without you. Just go on and hurry up," I reassure him.
"Okae," he says, moving quickly across the hall and closing the door behind him. A few seconds later there is a flush, and the bathroom door is flung almost off the hinges as he comes flying out.
"Wade! Wade fur mie!" he calls to Little Pip, who has already gone out onto the deck. I can barely hear his running footsteps, and my brain makes a mental note to remind him not to run in the house, when . . . .
KAWHAM!!
Then
THUMP!!
I leap from my chair, knowing full well what just happened and feeling like an idiot for not preventing it.
Legolas has run headlong into the sliding glass door.
I find him laid out flat on his back on the carpet, arms outstretched, legs spread-eagled. Pip is standing outside still with her hand over her mouth and a look of absolute horror on her face. There is a bright red mark in the dead center of his forehead, and the goose egg is already starting to rise.
"Don't just stand there!" I yell at Pip, "get me an ice pack from the freezer!"
I move to his side, looking closely at him. "Legolas?" I call to him gently. "Legolas, are you all right?" No response.
Ok, you're a Girl Scout Leader, I say to myself, now what do you do? That's right, the ABC's of First Aid. Airway, Breathing. . . Except when I do Step #1 Open the Airway, nothing is coming out. Nothing. Not one little breath, not one little breeze, not one single little wisp of air escapes his lips.
Holy Cow! The Girl Scout leader thinks. Now what do I do?!
Breathing. I must get him breathing. I try poking him in the ribs first, just in case, but to no avail. I look around, wishing there might be someone else I could pass this responsibility off to. No such luck. It is totally up to me. I must give Prance Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood mouth to mouth.
Grasping his nostrils firmly in one set of fingers, I use my other hand to gently tip his head back and once again check to see if there is any way the slightest bit of breath might just have decided to come out of his lungs. With my cheek a mere hairsbreadth from his lips, I slowly count to 5, feeling and watching for anything that might be there. Nothing. Ok, so I do it again and count to 10, but still no air passes from the Prance.
Look, Listen, and Feel. . . and I feel NOTHING.
Oh Lord, here we go.
I put my lips gently over his and begin rescue breathing just like I learned from my mother in class. My mother was a CPR instructor for years, and her students competed many times on the national level, and she made sure I was also well trained and quite competent in the technique. I watch as his chest rises and falls with each breath I give him, and at the appropriate time I stop to check for a pulse just like in the manual.
What am I going to do? I can't call for help. I can't take him to the hospital. No one there would know how to treat an Elf. I am on my own.
I lower my mouth to his again, continuing to push air into his lungs, blocking everything else from my mind as I concentrate on the task at hand. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. . . Suddenly there is a throat clearing noise behind me, and I lose my rhythm as I look up to see Yes Dear standing in the den watching everything that is going on.
Fortunately, Legolas takes this opportunity to take his own breath, and he lifts his head, shaking it as his glassy eyes come back into focus. "Wow!" he whispers.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes to Reviewers:
PuterPatty wrote a story! Go read it ! it is called El gwedh enni, and you can reach it by searching her name on the toolbar up there just like you do for mine.
TreeHugger: You're just writing to HIM so he will come out and you can catch him, aren't you?! "Hae TreaHueggr!" Go on, Legolas! "Shie wanz tu taelk tu mie! Hae Trea!" I said get away from the computer! You know what happens when you get excited around the computer screen, and I am not fixing that now! * Lego pouts, sulks off * Thanks for the beta!
Mom: Thanks for catching the commas the Comma Queen above did not want to keep for her own stash. Even I occasionally put too many pauses in my text! No, you still cannot beta my slash fic.
PuterPatty: Sorry! I only had 4 minutes until permanent damage (like the very first knock on the head wasn't enough!), so you will have to get in line for the CPR too. I know, now you want to volunteer for the "Look, Listen, and Feel" listing, but I keep telling you -it's not like that at all! Congratulations on becoming a ff.net author!
SarWolf Snape: Yes Dear knows! At least he suspects doesn't he?! Hair care is very important to elves, as you will soon see!
Skye Rocket: Are you ok? Hope your crisis is gone now-like Lego's maybe there is always light at the end of the tunnel.
Eileen: here's more for you to read. We've missed you for a couple of chapters-glad you are back! Thanks for the offer of the DVD-you are so kind!
Chel aka Elf Goldfish Cracker: He's not too old for me! lol! Are you keeping EW in your closet?
Magical Rachel: Legolas' turn-"U godda waech doez Naezgulz! I hab nod sean animoer. Leedle Peep saez shi lieks habin mie hear!"
Calenedhel: put your clothes on and get out from under that desk! Hehehehe! I'm writing, I'm writing..
JoyTook: Legolas loves visitors! Let us know what day is good for you, ok? Woo Hoo (copyright Celeborn)!
Laure: Legolas says, "Doen't huert ursef faentin! An faelin! An waech oud fur da glaess doerz-dey r daengerus!"
Marian: Now how am I supposed to keep him off the furniture if you guys keep scaring him so?!
mistressgreenleaf: It's his accent-he writes this way too. TreeHugger suggested that maybe they teach Hooked on Phonics in Elf School or something.
Elvea Aure aka Amanfalathiel: Legolas wants to know if your mom really died in childbirth? He is scared to type to you, and says to tell you he is also afraid if he took you back to Middle Earth with him Aragorn would kill him!
Endomiel: Legolas says, "I due mees Meedle Erth. Thaenk u fur da komplemaent abot mie aksent. I hoep tu lern tu drieve da neu SUV dat da Grammar laedie bot soe I kin goe bie bie tu sea u'awl." Y'all. Geez, now he is talking like he's from the South!
Sake: Little Pip is a 9-year-old wonder. She wants to know everything-she is a control freak just like her mom. Be careful with your DVD's! Thanks for thinking of me. I will have a new one on November 12th!
IRENA: I PUT IT IN ALL CAPS SO YOU COULD FIND IT *winks* MMMmmmm, cake . . . Legolas wants to talk to you, "I em verrie flaexabel. Id heps tu hab a beeg haendbaeg tu. I kin foeld up awl kinz of waez. Wanna sea?" Noooo! Legolas!!! That is NOT what she means!!! Not here!!!!
Seal: It must be the age, as well as the gender. Ask Tree, I am as bad as Pip. We play 20 questions when plotting all the time. Legolas says, "Id maekz mie haeppy tu maek u haeppy." As far as washing the Prance's clothes, well you will just have to wait and see. I promise that is coming too! After all, it is a NON-Fiction story, and Prance's do like to be clean!
Legolas: You ARE an impatient little devil! That's right, try to divert the blame by mentioning how nice PuterPatty is. It will not work with me; you are SO busted!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok, see the little purple bar down there? Tell Legolas how much you love him; he gets lonely and needs your support. He loves to use the computer to type his responses to you (and his reviews to himself apparently!), so if you want one, let him know you are out there, ok?
A/N: Don't own him, can't lend him, the usual stuff. No offense to any products listed, not responsible if you try any of this at home, yada yada yada. . . .
Look, Legolas, you got 100 reviews! Thank you all so much!
(Thank yourself too, Mr. Smarty-Pants. That's what I get for letting someone else watch you while I go to work. I know you had help, and I know who it was! You would never spell "that" or "car" correctly, not to mention substituting "ewe" in there. But I know who would! )
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After the barrage of questions stops, I say to Little Pip, "You know, you really should tell Prance Legolas you are pleased to meet him as well." I wink at the Prance, who is a bit rattled by the flurry of words that had been flying through the air moments ago.
"Oh," says Pip, "sorry! I am very glad to meet you too, Prance Legolas."
" U ar a deelite, Ladie Leedle Peep," he says, taking her hand and raising it to his lips. His smile would light up a football field.
Pip turns to me and whispers, "Momma, he KISSED my hand!"
" I know!" I exclaim. "And the best part is. . . Elves don't have any cooties!"
She grins up at me. " I don't have to go wash?"
"Nope!" I reply. "And even better, he LIKES to play with Barbie!"
"REALLY?!" she gawks. "Can he come in my room and play with me?"
"Why don't you ask him?" I urge.
Soon they are sitting happily in the middle of Pip's bedroom floor, surrounded by layer upon layer of Barbie clothes, and Barbie furniture, and Barbie cars, and Barbie hairbrushes, and so on, and so on, and so on. . .
I spend the time they are using to get acquainted by working on e-mails and instant messaging Yes Dear. Around 6:00 pm I get the message I have been dreading all day. "I'm on the way home," it reads. The jig is up.
"Pip," I call towards the bedroom," your Daddy is on the way home."
"Can I go out on the deck and watch for him?" she asks.
"Sure," I reply halfheartedly.
"Kin I goe oudsied tu?" asks Legolas.
"Can you hide when the car comes up?" I ask him.
"Shur!" he replies confidently. " I deed a guud joeb hiedin in da vaen din't I?"
I didn't need the reminder of the double heart attack I almost had when at first I couldn't find him, and then when I did. "Yes," I say with a smile, "you are an excellent hider."
"Furst, I muest goe tu da bafroom," he whispers, blushing. "Wade fur mie, Peep!"
"I'll be right out here!" hollers Little Pip.
He gives me a look of frustration and worry at being left behind. "Don't worry, she won't go anywhere without you. Just go on and hurry up," I reassure him.
"Okae," he says, moving quickly across the hall and closing the door behind him. A few seconds later there is a flush, and the bathroom door is flung almost off the hinges as he comes flying out.
"Wade! Wade fur mie!" he calls to Little Pip, who has already gone out onto the deck. I can barely hear his running footsteps, and my brain makes a mental note to remind him not to run in the house, when . . . .
KAWHAM!!
Then
THUMP!!
I leap from my chair, knowing full well what just happened and feeling like an idiot for not preventing it.
Legolas has run headlong into the sliding glass door.
I find him laid out flat on his back on the carpet, arms outstretched, legs spread-eagled. Pip is standing outside still with her hand over her mouth and a look of absolute horror on her face. There is a bright red mark in the dead center of his forehead, and the goose egg is already starting to rise.
"Don't just stand there!" I yell at Pip, "get me an ice pack from the freezer!"
I move to his side, looking closely at him. "Legolas?" I call to him gently. "Legolas, are you all right?" No response.
Ok, you're a Girl Scout Leader, I say to myself, now what do you do? That's right, the ABC's of First Aid. Airway, Breathing. . . Except when I do Step #1 Open the Airway, nothing is coming out. Nothing. Not one little breath, not one little breeze, not one single little wisp of air escapes his lips.
Holy Cow! The Girl Scout leader thinks. Now what do I do?!
Breathing. I must get him breathing. I try poking him in the ribs first, just in case, but to no avail. I look around, wishing there might be someone else I could pass this responsibility off to. No such luck. It is totally up to me. I must give Prance Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood mouth to mouth.
Grasping his nostrils firmly in one set of fingers, I use my other hand to gently tip his head back and once again check to see if there is any way the slightest bit of breath might just have decided to come out of his lungs. With my cheek a mere hairsbreadth from his lips, I slowly count to 5, feeling and watching for anything that might be there. Nothing. Ok, so I do it again and count to 10, but still no air passes from the Prance.
Look, Listen, and Feel. . . and I feel NOTHING.
Oh Lord, here we go.
I put my lips gently over his and begin rescue breathing just like I learned from my mother in class. My mother was a CPR instructor for years, and her students competed many times on the national level, and she made sure I was also well trained and quite competent in the technique. I watch as his chest rises and falls with each breath I give him, and at the appropriate time I stop to check for a pulse just like in the manual.
What am I going to do? I can't call for help. I can't take him to the hospital. No one there would know how to treat an Elf. I am on my own.
I lower my mouth to his again, continuing to push air into his lungs, blocking everything else from my mind as I concentrate on the task at hand. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. . . Suddenly there is a throat clearing noise behind me, and I lose my rhythm as I look up to see Yes Dear standing in the den watching everything that is going on.
Fortunately, Legolas takes this opportunity to take his own breath, and he lifts his head, shaking it as his glassy eyes come back into focus. "Wow!" he whispers.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes to Reviewers:
PuterPatty wrote a story! Go read it ! it is called El gwedh enni, and you can reach it by searching her name on the toolbar up there just like you do for mine.
TreeHugger: You're just writing to HIM so he will come out and you can catch him, aren't you?! "Hae TreaHueggr!" Go on, Legolas! "Shie wanz tu taelk tu mie! Hae Trea!" I said get away from the computer! You know what happens when you get excited around the computer screen, and I am not fixing that now! * Lego pouts, sulks off * Thanks for the beta!
Mom: Thanks for catching the commas the Comma Queen above did not want to keep for her own stash. Even I occasionally put too many pauses in my text! No, you still cannot beta my slash fic.
PuterPatty: Sorry! I only had 4 minutes until permanent damage (like the very first knock on the head wasn't enough!), so you will have to get in line for the CPR too. I know, now you want to volunteer for the "Look, Listen, and Feel" listing, but I keep telling you -it's not like that at all! Congratulations on becoming a ff.net author!
SarWolf Snape: Yes Dear knows! At least he suspects doesn't he?! Hair care is very important to elves, as you will soon see!
Skye Rocket: Are you ok? Hope your crisis is gone now-like Lego's maybe there is always light at the end of the tunnel.
Eileen: here's more for you to read. We've missed you for a couple of chapters-glad you are back! Thanks for the offer of the DVD-you are so kind!
Chel aka Elf Goldfish Cracker: He's not too old for me! lol! Are you keeping EW in your closet?
Magical Rachel: Legolas' turn-"U godda waech doez Naezgulz! I hab nod sean animoer. Leedle Peep saez shi lieks habin mie hear!"
Calenedhel: put your clothes on and get out from under that desk! Hehehehe! I'm writing, I'm writing..
JoyTook: Legolas loves visitors! Let us know what day is good for you, ok? Woo Hoo (copyright Celeborn)!
Laure: Legolas says, "Doen't huert ursef faentin! An faelin! An waech oud fur da glaess doerz-dey r daengerus!"
Marian: Now how am I supposed to keep him off the furniture if you guys keep scaring him so?!
mistressgreenleaf: It's his accent-he writes this way too. TreeHugger suggested that maybe they teach Hooked on Phonics in Elf School or something.
Elvea Aure aka Amanfalathiel: Legolas wants to know if your mom really died in childbirth? He is scared to type to you, and says to tell you he is also afraid if he took you back to Middle Earth with him Aragorn would kill him!
Endomiel: Legolas says, "I due mees Meedle Erth. Thaenk u fur da komplemaent abot mie aksent. I hoep tu lern tu drieve da neu SUV dat da Grammar laedie bot soe I kin goe bie bie tu sea u'awl." Y'all. Geez, now he is talking like he's from the South!
Sake: Little Pip is a 9-year-old wonder. She wants to know everything-she is a control freak just like her mom. Be careful with your DVD's! Thanks for thinking of me. I will have a new one on November 12th!
IRENA: I PUT IT IN ALL CAPS SO YOU COULD FIND IT *winks* MMMmmmm, cake . . . Legolas wants to talk to you, "I em verrie flaexabel. Id heps tu hab a beeg haendbaeg tu. I kin foeld up awl kinz of waez. Wanna sea?" Noooo! Legolas!!! That is NOT what she means!!! Not here!!!!
Seal: It must be the age, as well as the gender. Ask Tree, I am as bad as Pip. We play 20 questions when plotting all the time. Legolas says, "Id maekz mie haeppy tu maek u haeppy." As far as washing the Prance's clothes, well you will just have to wait and see. I promise that is coming too! After all, it is a NON-Fiction story, and Prance's do like to be clean!
Legolas: You ARE an impatient little devil! That's right, try to divert the blame by mentioning how nice PuterPatty is. It will not work with me; you are SO busted!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok, see the little purple bar down there? Tell Legolas how much you love him; he gets lonely and needs your support. He loves to use the computer to type his responses to you (and his reviews to himself apparently!), so if you want one, let him know you are out there, ok?