Friday, March 5

One of Those Days

I probably shouldn't write while in the throws of a rotten bad mood, but oh well.  You know how you try to do something nice for somebody and then it just comes back to bite you?  Yeah.  I tried taking apart a broken IKEA floor lamp to make sure it was in fact broken and not salvageable for a friend needing a lamp.  Of course I figured out it is in fact broken, but then got called off to some other task and so the lamp sat in parts, strewn about Ellie's bedroom floor.

Today Ellie runs through her room like any 2-yr-old should be able, only she steps on the light bulb twister-inner-part.  "Oh, ouchy sweety! I'm sorry," I lament, scooping her sobbing body up, plopping us both onto her bed and truly feeling bad for having left the lamp parts in her path.  After a couple of minutes, her sobbing seems a bit dramatic and I sternly but gently encourage her to finish the tears.  "But it huuuuurrrrts," she moans.  So I pick up the foot to give it the magical kiss and see several blood droplets on the carpet beneath where her foot hung - and a nice bloody smear across my sweats.

Long story short, I drop Abby off at my angel of a friend Eliza's house, figuring she (Abby) would be no help in the process of mending Ellie's foot.  I battle with the pediatrician's answering service who tries convincing me they're not at lunch and so I just drive there to wait (since they are at lunch, thus my calls being forwarded).  I want to see if perhaps they do stitches there so as not to have to fork out my ER co-pay that has doubled since last year.  No, they don't do stitches, but won't I wait for the doctor (1/2 hour) just in case she doesn't need stitches?  Yes, it turns out, she does need stitches.  We go to the closest hospital and wait a mere 2 1/2 hours more - Ellie wreaking havoc with the doctor supplies (the mauve kidney buckets a favorite) when we eventually make it to the "suture room."  The doctor finally comes in, takes a quick look at the gash and offers a "You can or you don't have to - it's up to you.  It'll heal either way - just more traumatic for her if you do stitch it."  Great.  And although I consider for a second putting her through the trauma just to make peace with the previous 3 1/2 hours, I don't.  Instead we wait another 1/2 hour for the nurse to come in and hand me 4 packets of Neosporin.

Other than having to battle Abby at the grocery store afterward, refusing to let her buy Hannah Montana band-aids (seriously?? what the? how? uugghh) which she ended up sneaking in the mound of other first-aid remedies while checking out (but which ended up being Barbie band-aids, not the other, to my odd relief) and coming home to realize the fresh paint I had just poured into a paint tray just before this all happened isn't so fresh and finding out the babysitter cancelled for our anniversary tomorrow night, things are calming down.  Paint is paint.  Ellie, although very much a troublemaker these days still has a toe - and foot for that matter.  Abby hasn't really discovered pop culture just yet.  And I'm happily married to my teddy hug-a-bunch six years tomorrow.  I suppose it could be a whole lot worse.








QFTD


Listening to Old Macdonald (where he had a cat), Abby said: "A cat on a farm? That's disgusting!"






Abby:  "Mom, I'll pay you twice dollars if you dance ballet."

Ellie, being helped with her prayer by Adam: ..."Please help us to be led by the Spirit," E: "I don't like that!"

Abby put a plastic toy bowl on an armchair where the sun was shining brightly.  "Oh! I can't wait until this melts!  There are so many fantastic games to play."

Abby, holding a tiny whitish blob in her hand: "See, Mom, this is an acrifice." "Oh yeah, what is an acrifice?"  "An acrifice is what you get in your mouth and you have to spit it out.  It's from the word acrifisus."

Ellie, as we're walking into the ER: "I bet the doctor will love my Ariel panties."

The ER doctor asked Ellie how old she is, and she answered "Two," complete with peace fingers.  "How old is Mommy?" he asked.  She looked at me, puzzled. "Mom, what...is...your name?"


The doctor asked Ellie what happened to her foot.  "I sliced it on the light gold." (light bulb)

1 comment:

  1. Oh man Al, that sounds like a really rough day!
    Poor Ellie, is her foot feeling better? That is so funny that she thought the doctor would like her new panties.

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