Thursday, October 15, 2009

Oh No, You Boys'll Never Care, No, You Boys Never Care How the Girl Feels

The other day I picked the boys up from school and noticed something about Griffin across the parkway (wish I could call it a quad, can I call it a quad? calling it a big ass sidewalk seems dumb).

Half his face was missing.

Now, okay, I get it: I'm a drama queen. Duly noted. But! Half of his face was missing. Which resulted me in yelling, in front of 500 bazillion young, impressionable minds, "Griffin! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?"

"Happened to WHAT, Mom?"

"YOUR FACE."

"Oh, I fell."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stop freaking out."

"Oh, I'm not freaking out."

"Yes, you are. Quit it."

"BUT! YOUR FACE!"

"I just got it dirty."

"No, you didn't. Did you see the nurse?"

"Yeah, she washed me up."

So, after a call to the doctor's office, a call to the school nurse, a call with the doctor and consulting a shoe salesman (much prettier than Al Bundy, I might add). I decided to take him to the ER for a possible concussion.

Dude, after what happened to Darwin I have become this overprotective mother hen who's all hyper-sensitive to head accidents. I know, I know, that was horrible, awful, unfortunate accident but it create some kind of crazed monster in me of protecting my baby's heads at all costs.

So, yes. I full intended to take Griffin to the ER because! He could have a hematoma! It could pinch off some special nerve and damage him! HE COULD DIE!

And I called Aaron. After all, he needs to know our son is going to die, right? Right.

Well, okay. So Aaron talked me off that ledge. Aaron's idea? Motrin. And a mirror. So Griffin could see I'm not a crazy lady. Then a grown-up drink for me to calm my shit down.

After all...


... he only scratched it on pavement.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ha ha ha. My nine-year-old son has inherited his father's ability to injure himself to the point at which blood is drawn but conveniently forget how he did it. I get him on weekends and point out scabs and bruises and ask, "how did you get that?" and he says, "hmmm ... I forget."

This summer he stayed with me while at summer camp and skidded out while running across gravel - to the extent the camp nurse called to warn me before I came to get him. He had a beautiful shade of purpley-blue on one eyelid for the rest of the week, and roadburn type scars on knees, elbow and face ... and yes, I started to become a little sensitive to how strangers were looking at me after checking him out. But he couldn't care less.

Skye @ Planet Jinxatron said...

I'm so glad I didn't send you a picture of your other baby's giant bruise on his forehead - you probably would have driven down here to take him home where he really belongs.

Oil Cloth Junkie said...

oh, honey.

lori/laeroport said...

Aidin came home with a note saying she had sustained a head injury the other day after she got conked in the face (glasses) with a soccer ball in P.E. The joys of parenting, eh?
Have a good weekend.

Chickenbells said...

Well. That does look a little like more than a scratch to me! Poor guy. Poor YOU and poor the other 3 people I know who have fallen in the last week (including myself)...what the heck is going on with all the gravity issues?

kristi said...

Ouch! Poor kid. William hurts himself all the time. He says that if you do that it's proof that you're emo.

Rebecca F. said...

Well, the scrapes don't look too bad to me but the bruise that is likely going to come out on his chin is going to be a doozy!

Poor guy.

Keyona said...

Wow, you are totally phyco. I love it though. LOL!

kate said...

omg -- i love you. i have been reading a bunch of crafty mama blogs and you SWEAR! and freak out! thank god i'm not alone.