I saw it out of the corner of my eye. After a long day of check-ups at the pediatrician's office for three kids and regular school work, then a rush to get my two oldest kids and husband off to a special evening Mass, I had turned on a video for the other kids and sat down at the computer in the room with them.
A minute or so later, the two year old daredevil stood up on a rolling toy, which slipped out from under him, sending him backwards into a metal magazine box full of coloring books, which had, of course, been pulled off of the bookcase and was lying on the floor.
Smack! I knew it wouldn't be good. By the time I ran him to the bathroom with my hand over the back of his head, we were both pretty bloody. I had to strip him down and rinse his head to even figure out where the wound was.
And then the doubt and questions set in? Does it need stitches? Am I paranoid? Why didn't I catch him? I called the doctor, and after talking to the person on call — got confirmation that we probably should take him in.
By this time, my husband was home, so I didn't have to drag five little kids to the ER at 8 o'clock at night. They returned around 11:15, and he now has four staples in the back of his head. If he'd done it before Halloween, Frankenstein would have been a most appropriate costume.
I sure am thankful for a nearby children's hospital, but I'd rather not have to actually use it so much.
That other thing happening today? Yes, I voted. 'Tis done. I'll try not to feel ill if things don't go my way, as I am sure about half the country will be doing if they do go my way.