He was outside, playing in the sandbox after he'd finished his breakfast, and Jori was eating her breakfast. Sam had just left for work. I thought this the perfect time to sneak away upstairs, to brush my teeth and put in contacts for the day. Then I heard him crying downstairs. So I hopped back downstairs, and he was crying, somewhat under the table and next to Jori's chair, just sitting. It really wasn't an alarming cry, any more than usual bumps and scrapes that are typical of his 20-month-old days. But then I noticed blood all over his neck...
and then where the blood originated, on his scalp...
...and promptly fainted.
Just kidding. I handled it like a boss, I thought. I'm grateful it wasn't worse, because then I really would have been a nervous wreck. I've got one queasy stomach, lemme tell ya. But I wetted a washcloth with cold water, held it to his head and the bleeding stopped pretty quickly. His tears dried up with a mama-Atticus-blankie sandwich, as they often do. But after examining it briefly, I once again dashed upstairs to snag my phone and call mom.
TO THE RESCUE!
Thank goodness my mom lives 8 minutes away. She arrived soon, evaluated it, and stayed with Jori when I took my little man to the Springville Urgent Care.
Poor lad received four staples, but it's only for a week so I think he will live. I got him and Jori sodas on the ride home, and he was delighted enough with his Root Beer I think he thought the injury worth it.
It's like when I was a teenager, my mom would always take me to Arby's after orthodontist appointments. Sometimes, for some sweet curly fries, sacrifices have to be made.
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