We postpone our regularly scheduled recipe for a little piece of daily drama.
7 stitches. That’s how many it took. You can see only six. That’s because there’s one that is buried.
I missed the whole thing.
“Uh huh- And how long has this cough been going on?” Is what I said and what I meant was “Hurry Hurry Hurry! My son is bleeding and I know he has his daddy and a whole team of very competent doctors but what he really needs is his mommy!”
I finished my exam in record time- I’m so sorry ma’am. I waited- impatiently tapping my foot and pacing -for those last two shots to be given and I BOLTED! True to form everything was slow on the way there. The street was partially flooded from the recent onslaught of rain. We all tucked in one lane and when it was clear we dispersed, scattering like ants. I scurried to the side and drove extra careful but a little fast until I hit the detour. The came to ANOTHER halt. And waited and rushed following it. Then boom right behind three cars going 15 miles an hour.
“COME ON!” I yelled.
They parted and I made it to the ER. Flying around the corner I came to his room and this is what I saw:
“Oh! My poor baby! Are you okay?” I leaned in and kissed him - I was really trying to take a better look:
My stinker took a papoose and two people to pin him down. And the screams were loud!! - so I was told. He seemed to be especially fond of the Popsicle and glove balloon though.
But he remained a little gun shy:
Relax Baby it’s only a band aid!
If it’s not one drama it’s another. I am really not a drama queen. Swear! It’s all him.Yep - he’s going to give me a heart attack.