Franken-Coy

Friday night we spent the evening, not food-shopping like I should have, but in the ER with the family. Around six-thirty my husband came home and walked into the kitchen. I saw my son and daughter in the living room about to jump on the couch. I said, "Don't jump on the couch; you'll fall and crack your skull open." You know the thing your parents said to you all the time when you didn't listen. Well my child is no different. I walked upstairs and heard my husband coming up with my son. I looked at them and saw blood pouring down my son's face. I was very calm! I really was. (Until the actual stitches, that is) We went out the door to the ER and sat in the hospital until 10 pm when they finally put three stitches in his forehead. They wrapped him in a sheet so they could hold him still. It took three doctors and my husband to hold him still enough to put the stitches in. I couldn't help because I was in the corner crying just as much as he was screaming bloody murder. Hmmmm, I always wondered what bloody murder sounded like, well I found out. Those sounds will haunt me the rest of my life. I've attached two pictures for those of you with a solid stomach. His wound actually looks like a bullet went through his head, but it was the corner of our coffee table. Funny thing was when we got home and put the kids to bed, we checked the surrounding area of the scene of the crime for blood and couldn't find a drop. This child bled like crazy but we figure it wasn't until he started to cry that the blood flowed. WOW! I'm thankful that it wasn't any other part of him like his eye. He will have a scar now just like his father in the same place. Please be warned that the pictures you are about to view are not for the squeamish.

BTW, he is doing very well today and hasn't even said a word about the stitches. We wait five days now to get them removed. That should be another interesting trip to the hospital.