Come have a laugh with me as I calculate that it was less than two weeks between posting about letting kids live dangerously that one of my kids ended up in the emergency room to have his head glued back together. Ha ha ha ha HA.
No, really, it’s okay to laugh. It wasn’t that bad (the equivalent of two stitches), and by the rules that govern the Bizarroworld that is having two small children, it wasn’t the crazy, fearless child who almost brained himself but the other one. The one who said afterward, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your safety rules, Mom.” The one who was deemed the Calmest Kid Ever by the ER doctor (a male doctor! they do exist!*), who gave Wombat a sticker and a worksheet and a pair of surgical gloves and a set of professional tweezers and a gratuitous ride in a wheelchair (plus a bunch of superglue on his gouge) and yet still kept looking for something “more special” because a kid who can just lay/lie there with a head injury like it’s no big thing should be rewarded with something “more special.”
*Wombat still thinks only women are allowed to be doctors. Was one so wrong ever so sweet?
While Fox was in the care of my in-laws, who were at the house at the time of the accident (irresponsible twirling on the backyard tire swing too close to the very pointy corners of the patio furniture), Simon and I took Wombat out for a post-trauma cheeseburger instead. (“Now, don’t think bashing your brains out is a good way to score a cheeseburger, mister.”) This is what it looks like when you eat a cheeseburger after having had your blood-soaked hair clipped back in your mom’s barrettes for a few hours.
For the past two weeks he’s been wearing magical band-aids that seem to have taken away both the pain of a self-inflicted flesh cravasse as well as the sting of missing two weeks of swimming lessons. If he ends up with a gnarly scar, it’ll just make Harry Potter all the more exciting. (We’re thinking age 7 would be a good time to start? Yes?)
I’m pleased to report that I was as cool as a frog’s belly during the entire affair, but now, of course, I can’t help but look at everything in my children’s vicinities as potential hazards to their health/pretty, pretty faces. Can someone tell me: Why is the world so sharp? The good news is that I’m still firmly of the mind that it would be ridiculous to attempt to pad every surface my kids might come in contact with, and thus it is that I’ve resolved to simply pad the children. You heard it here first: Summer 2014′s fashion breakthrough is triple-ply quilted bodysuits with matching helmets. Order yours today!