Picture it...Fall 2008. The place? A sweet, gingerbread looking cottage in Rolling Hills, GA. It was one of those afternoons when every little thing seemed right with the world. I was in the kitchen, whipping up a Greek inspired supper. Y2 was playing in his bedroom and Y1 was gathering their laundry and bringing it downstairs to the washer. Mr. Snark was on his way home from work. Every little thing...but hey, what's the odd shooooshing sound? What was that THUMP?! Why is Y1 crying???!!!??
The shooshing, the THUMP, the WAILING (the crying didn't last long) all happened within eight seconds. Auto-brain took over and started piecing things together, before I rounded the corner from the kitchen to the hall. I heard my inner voice VERY clearly..."You're gong to round the corner and see Y1 at the bottom of the stairs. There might be body parts in unnatural positions. You HAVE to stay calm! Turn off the stove. Now, GO!!!!" What I found was Y1 on his knees, on the bottom landing. Arms, legs, head and neck all appeared to be where they belonged. YES! The laundry basket was over turned and dirty, boyo clothes were EVERYWHERE! Y2's at the top of the stairs, hollering out to The Savior, "Dear Jesus, Bubba's hurt! HELP!!!" I couldn't see my Firstborn's face, because he had it covered with his hands. Inner voice said, "EWWWWW!!!! It's his eye....he put out his eye on the corner of his book basket!" I wasn't prepared for dangling eyeballs but then I realized there wasn't blood everywhere, so it couldn't be an eye. I got him to move his hands...WHEW...both eyeballs exactly where God put them. His eyeballs were good, but his nose and lips, not so much.
I set Y2 (STILL hollering prayers to Heaven) on the task of picking up the dirty clothes that had scattered like confetti. I called our neighbor to come to the house because Eric still wasn't home and I needed another adult in the house. I put Y1 over the sink in the powder room. His task was to rinse his mouth with cold water while I got clean bath cloths from my bathroom. Neighbor arrived with THE biggest first aid kit I have ever seen! Honestly, I think it was big enough to house everything you might need for battlefield surgery! Mr. Snark walked in about this time. Our neighbor stayed long enough to fill Mr. Snark in on the details and then she left us to our lunacy.
The details....Y1 decided it would be fun to ride the laundry basket down the stairs. What he failed to realize was that the laws of physics and gravity...they don't play. He got a little more than half way down the stairs and the basket flipped forward and threw him into the wall. The front wall of the house...a load bearing wall.. He hit the wall so hard that he left an arc shaped dent in the sheet rock. Had he flipped out of the basket a little sooner, he might have gone through the window that was about a foot above where he made contact with the wall. Head first.
For his efforts, he earned two of THE fattest lips I've ever observed. Bruised, oh my!! One of his front teeth was just ever so slightly loose...but still very much attached. Not a lot of blood from his nose...I think his mouth took the lion's share of the impact...but it didn't take long to realize that things were swelling. No trip to the hospital...bleeding stopped, he was lucid (HAH) and wanted to eat supper. I finished making supper and we sat down to eat. We said "the AMEN" and I flew into the powder room to have a brief come-apart. Thus ended the adrenaline rush for the evening.
Bedtime was interesting. I decided that it would be best if Y1 (I had started calling him Jar-Jar Binks) and I slept in the guest room. I propped him up on several pillows, because of the nasal/sinus swelling that I knew was happening...his voice took on a comical tone. It was a LOOOONG night. He snored like some other planetary beasty! We made it through the night and as much as he wanted to stay home from school, I was the mean mama (and still am) and made him go. Why? "Because stupidity is not on the list of reasons for excused absences." I did walk him into the office to explain what had happened. He was a favorite of one of them and she was beside herself when she saw his face. "What did YOU do to my baby?" said she. "Wasn't me," says I. "Ask 'your baby'!" Walked him to his classroom and explained it. After the initial shock of Jar-Jar's face, the story got some good laughs.
And it still does. Shared the story with one of Y1's new friends...he almost spit tea through his nose!
The shooshing, the THUMP, the WAILING (the crying didn't last long) all happened within eight seconds. Auto-brain took over and started piecing things together, before I rounded the corner from the kitchen to the hall. I heard my inner voice VERY clearly..."You're gong to round the corner and see Y1 at the bottom of the stairs. There might be body parts in unnatural positions. You HAVE to stay calm! Turn off the stove. Now, GO!!!!" What I found was Y1 on his knees, on the bottom landing. Arms, legs, head and neck all appeared to be where they belonged. YES! The laundry basket was over turned and dirty, boyo clothes were EVERYWHERE! Y2's at the top of the stairs, hollering out to The Savior, "Dear Jesus, Bubba's hurt! HELP!!!" I couldn't see my Firstborn's face, because he had it covered with his hands. Inner voice said, "EWWWWW!!!! It's his eye....he put out his eye on the corner of his book basket!" I wasn't prepared for dangling eyeballs but then I realized there wasn't blood everywhere, so it couldn't be an eye. I got him to move his hands...WHEW...both eyeballs exactly where God put them. His eyeballs were good, but his nose and lips, not so much.
I set Y2 (STILL hollering prayers to Heaven) on the task of picking up the dirty clothes that had scattered like confetti. I called our neighbor to come to the house because Eric still wasn't home and I needed another adult in the house. I put Y1 over the sink in the powder room. His task was to rinse his mouth with cold water while I got clean bath cloths from my bathroom. Neighbor arrived with THE biggest first aid kit I have ever seen! Honestly, I think it was big enough to house everything you might need for battlefield surgery! Mr. Snark walked in about this time. Our neighbor stayed long enough to fill Mr. Snark in on the details and then she left us to our lunacy.
The details....Y1 decided it would be fun to ride the laundry basket down the stairs. What he failed to realize was that the laws of physics and gravity...they don't play. He got a little more than half way down the stairs and the basket flipped forward and threw him into the wall. The front wall of the house...a load bearing wall.. He hit the wall so hard that he left an arc shaped dent in the sheet rock. Had he flipped out of the basket a little sooner, he might have gone through the window that was about a foot above where he made contact with the wall. Head first.
For his efforts, he earned two of THE fattest lips I've ever observed. Bruised, oh my!! One of his front teeth was just ever so slightly loose...but still very much attached. Not a lot of blood from his nose...I think his mouth took the lion's share of the impact...but it didn't take long to realize that things were swelling. No trip to the hospital...bleeding stopped, he was lucid (HAH) and wanted to eat supper. I finished making supper and we sat down to eat. We said "the AMEN" and I flew into the powder room to have a brief come-apart. Thus ended the adrenaline rush for the evening.
Bedtime was interesting. I decided that it would be best if Y1 (I had started calling him Jar-Jar Binks) and I slept in the guest room. I propped him up on several pillows, because of the nasal/sinus swelling that I knew was happening...his voice took on a comical tone. It was a LOOOONG night. He snored like some other planetary beasty! We made it through the night and as much as he wanted to stay home from school, I was the mean mama (and still am) and made him go. Why? "Because stupidity is not on the list of reasons for excused absences." I did walk him into the office to explain what had happened. He was a favorite of one of them and she was beside herself when she saw his face. "What did YOU do to my baby?" said she. "Wasn't me," says I. "Ask 'your baby'!" Walked him to his classroom and explained it. After the initial shock of Jar-Jar's face, the story got some good laughs.
And it still does. Shared the story with one of Y1's new friends...he almost spit tea through his nose!
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