We're on the living room floor, rough-housing and generally being silly. Princess Persistent and Darling Boy are taking turns playing "let's tackle daddy", despite Veronica's entreaties that we stop since it's nearing the kids bedtime and they really need to settle down. PP escapes my grasp, moves to run away, and I gently give her a push on the shoulder.
Forgetting, of course, that gentle to a 195 lb man is a little different than to a 40 lb 3 yr old.
She loses her balance, trips over a throw pillow on the floor, and goes face first into the corner of the coffee table.
Immediately, the crying starts and by the time she stands up and looks at mean old dad, the rivulet of blood has run from the corner of her left eye all the way down to the collar of her pajamas. But facial cuts can bleed pretty bad and I'm not too worried. I pull her close and work on calming her down while heading to the bathroom to assess the damage and staunch the bleeding. I get a close look and turn to Veronica, who has joined us by now, saying "So, who wants to take her to the ER, you or me?" There is a nice, deep split just to the outside edge of her left eye-brow that if it was elsewhere on her body we could probably deal with ourselves. But this is our pretty little princesses face! Veronica says that she'll take her and I can work on getting DB to bed.
You wanna know how much of a trooper my girl is? They get to the ER, decide she'll need 2-3 stitches and apply some lidocaine cream to numb the area. This needs about 30 minutes to take effect, so Veronica cuddles PP in her arms while they wait. And PP falls asleep. And stays asleep with the physician puts in 3 stitches! And continues to sleep for the trip out to the car, the drive home, getting carried into the house and all through the night!
Isn't she cute? [Yes, I took a picture of the damage I caused!]
12 days later, it's time to take her to the pediatrician to have the stitches removed and due to work schedules, I take her. Of course, before we get there I coach PP that "My daddy pushed me" may not be the best answer when the doctor asked what happened. No need to get child protective services involved!
The doc and I make small talk while he's looking at how the wound is healing and I'm telling him what happened. And no, I didn't sugarcoat the story!
God bless him, you know what his response was to my story?
"It's not the kids that get the occasional stitches or broken bone that I worry about. It's the kids who go through childhood without those little injuries that worry me. They're not having fun!"
What a wonderful attitude to have. And exactly what I needed to hear!!
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