“Hello, Mr. Bear!” Two heads peered around corner, anticipation in their eyes.
“Hello, lunch!” My husband answered in a gruff voice as he stepped towards them. The boys darted back to their tent in the family room as I continued my sewing and my husband returned to working on his model racecar.
“Hello, Mr. Bear!” Lewis and Clark were back.
“Hello, lunch!” This time my husband followed them out of the room, chasing his prey as they giggled and ran.
Suddenly, the giggling changed to cries of pain. Paul can handle it. Whatever he did, Daddy will make it better and they will be back to their game soon. I ignored the ruckus and continued my sewing, but the cries did not soften with Daddy’s comfort. Instead, they seemed to be getting louder, even though I could tell that they had gone upstairs. Perhaps this was serious.
Guilt washed over me as I saw the blood run down my son’s forehead. How could I have ignored such pain? As his mother, I should have recognized the cry as a serious one.
“How bad is it? What exactly happened?” I hoped my husband would answer that it was not as bad as it looked.
“Well, I can see the skull. He looked back to see if I was following this time and turned around at full speed right into the corner of the wall. You want to take him to Urgent Care or you want me to?”
“I want Mommy to take me.”
I carried my son into the clinic, snuggle toy in his arms and ice pack on his head. The receptionist abruptly cut off conversation with the man she was helping with “we have a situation here.” Escorted to a room in record time, we did not wait long for assistance.
The idea of someone sewing his head was scarier to my son than my words were comforting. Nothing I did calmed him down, yet the young doctor was able to give my son first a shot to numb the area, then internal stitches and surgical glue.
I never again want to see my son’s skull and just the thought of a game of “Lewis and Clark Taunt the Bear” makes his head hurt. I do not remember what I was sewing that Easter afternoon, but I will never forget the trip to the clinic to have my son’s head sewn.
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