you are bleeding, have a broken bone, or something is oozing from a place it shouldn't be. I don't do well with that kind of grossness. Last night I was vacuuming up squirrel poo from my son's closet (I'll save this story for another day), when my oldest comes running in almost in tears. He says he's so sorry for leaving toys on the stairs and that daddy fell with Trey. I just told him to go apologize when I hear Joe yelling for help. Great...
I get to the bottom of the stairs where I see Trey laying on the floor, Joe crumpled in pain, and a really bloody sock. Grimace, shudder, close my eyes, I am in a happy place. Reality hits again and I make sure that Trey is ok - he is, then I turn to Joe and his bloody foot. Eww. We both scan the steps to see what could have caused this tragedy, a block - probably not, plastic piggy bank - unlikely, a fork - the culprit. I go to grab Joe some gauze, tape and new socks. Then like any normal person would do I start cleaning, frantically cleaning. I am a worthless wife when I see blood. Scrapes are ok, blood from deep inside, not. I gather my thoughts and finally I get the courage to go by my wounded husband again.
We had a fabulous dinner that night, pizza calzones (a delicious recipe that I will share eventually). When I asked Joe to get Trey from his nap, Rylee decided to follow with fork in hand but left it conveniently on the steps.
A trip to the urgent care, a diagnosis of a fork to the foot, 4 stitches and a 1" deep puncture wound later we were all home.
I leave you with this pleasant photograph. Much better than looking at a bloody foot.
2 comments:
OH NO! Poor Joe! I hope his foot is feeling better. And, I can't wait to hear about the squirrel. :o)
Sooo sorry for Joe, but we were all laughing until we cried reading your blog. :)
mt
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