Unfortunately, tears are not uncommon at our house. Someone is always getting hurt it seems, and this is especially true for Owen. So, last night when I heard a small commotion and tears that followed, I wasn’t completely surprised. Nor was I surprised that, Owen, was the person that had fallen victim to the most recent incident.
After all, this is the same child that took a nose dive down the driveway earlier this Summer. We had just finished swimming in our pond. There was a little daylight left, and the kids intended to enjoy every minute of it. While I made my way inside, they started a game of tag. In an attempt to keep from being “it”, he charged down the driveway. Unfortunately for him, he was going downhill when he stumbled and skidded on the concrete. Of course, the tears began to flow. My presence was quickly requested at the back door to assess the situation. The poor guy was pretty skinned up, bleeding, and completely convinced he needed a blood transfusion.
I am happy to report that he did not need a blood transfusion. He made a full recovery with some soap and water, and a lot of kisses from me.
And who could forget the “Monkey in the Middle” tragedy that happened just a few weeks ago?
Apparently, Owen and Ruthie were going for the ball at the same time. Somehow however, Owen’s mouth meet Ruthie’s foot. Her foot won. Again, he was delivered to the back door with tears flowing down his cheeks. He had bit his tongue in midst of the collision, and had a mouthful of blood. I escorted him into the shower to clean him up, with the intention of looking him over a little better.
I began to wash him as he started to calm down. However, all that quickly changed as a new panic overcame him. He opened his mouth, and removed something.
“Here is a piece of my tongue! My tongue is falling out!”
You may be surprised, but his tongue was not falling out. No, indeed his tongue was fully intact, although it was scraped. On closer inspection, I realized what he was holding in his hand was a corn kernel, not a piece of his tongue.
So, now perhaps you see why I wasn’t the least bit taken by the situation that unfolded last night.
I had sent the kids outside to do their chores. You know, like “Little House on the Prairie”. Yes, exactly like that, except I don’t live on prairie and my children don’t call me Ma.
My kids were to feed and water the chickens, rabbits, and dog. In addition to this, they needed to gather the eggs, and bring them inside.
All of these tasks take them a fair amount of time. I had managed to finish supper as they performed their chores, so I sat down for a moment. No sooner than I sat down, I heard the all to familiar noise of crying near the back door. It was Owen AGAIN.
From the best I could tell, all three kids had been racing to the house. Owen either collided with one of his siblings or misgauged the first step to the back door. Either way, the end result was him falling backwards and bumping his head.
“My head is bleeding!”
As I ran to his aid, I found Griffin standing over him and carefully examining Owen’s scalp.
“I don’t see any blood.”
“It is bleeding! I can feel it!”
About that time, Ruthie, noticed half of the eggs broke in the midst of the scuffle.
It was then that I realized, Owen, didn’t have any blood on his scalp. No, in fact what he actually had was egg dripping down his head!
While I am certain taking a stumble didn’t feel good, soap and water quickly resolved the damage – no blood transfusion needed.
Only At My House,