“HERE COMES THE TICKLE MONSTER!” I playfully yelled as I ran in to my bedroom where the kids where playing. I heard screams of delight as Hayden rolled around and Quinn tried to scramble up the end of the bed to be tickled and join in the rough housing fun.
Then as I bent over Hayden and started to tickle him, time began to move in slow motion. I watched, helplessly, as Hayden swung his foot around and hit Quinn square in the face.
WAAAAAAAAAA! Quinn let out a painful crying as blood began to pour out of his mouth.
With time once again at normal speed, I scooped Quinn up and ran into the kitchen. I quickly put a cool cloth to his mouth and tried to stop the bleeding.
In a few moments, Quinn calmed down enough for me to a chance to look at the wound. That was when I first realized that he has bit through his lip. I looked inside his mouth only to find that the inside lip looked like raw hamburger.
I picked up the phone and called the doctor, only to be told to head into the ER.
“Really?” I questioned the nurse on the other end of the phone. “It is just a small cut.”
“Yes. You need to get this checked out by a doctor. It could need stitches or he might need to see a plastic surgeon.” She stated.
“Seriously?!” I asked again. I was trying to seal the fact that I would not be nominated for mother of the year.
“Yes, it is our advice that you should go. I will call the ER and tell them that you are coming,” and with that she hung up the phone.
I sighed and looked at Quinn who now had a pretty puffy red lip. “I guess its off the doctor for you and me.”
I told Jeff what happened, “With the power going out this morning, not sleeping last night and now this injury this afternoon, this could possibly be the worst day ever.” I said as Quinn and I headed to the hospital.
Quinn was in great spirits and even happy about the trip. He was talkative and happy and every time someone asked to see his ‘big owie’, he opened wide.
The doctor who took care of us was great and even gave Quinn a mustache with betadine. He assured me that Quinn would be fine and that the best thing was a little skin glue to seal the outer cut. Quinn was a champ, only getting annoyed by me and all my attempts to take a close-up photo.
But once he realized the gloves could come home with us, he was ready to go. And I was more than ready for this day to be over and so ready to curl up with a nice big glass of wine. It just goes to show, that when you think a day is bad, it can always get worse.