So we had an interesting experience this last monday night. It started out simple enough. We had a plan. Go ice skating, get dinner, and go home to start our Indiana Jones or Star Wars marathon. We weren't sure which one yet.
Here we are ice skating:
Oh...so precious. Me and my little bros
Again, aww, how cute are we?????
So we are having fun right? Dad is glued to the wall barely skating, haha and we get him this ice walker. Austin is slowly making his way around the ice, and Brandon and I are speeding around spinning each other and having ton of fun. Then, as it often does, tragedy strikes.
BACKGROUND INFORMATION: Brandon is the most accident prone of all six of us siblings. He has hit his head on so many different things: counters, floors, fans, ice, other heads. Just, when he was little he almost had a perpetual goose egg on his forehead.
Haha. Um well this is awkward. You see, we were in an intense game of ice tag. He got in front of me, and I was sneaking behind him and I tagged him. It was a normally pressured tagging on my part. Just to clear up ANY suspicion. The little bro just slipped. And his hands aborted that mission so his head took up the slack. He landed pretty much on right on his eyebrow, and slit it right open. OH Gee. My health teacher told me once that if a wound is smiling at you, it needs stitches. His eyebrow was synonymous to the freakin' cheshire cat at that moment! Stitches were definitely needed.
If you know me, you know that I tend to not do well in stressful situations. Like the time my friend and I were in a golf cart, foolishly texting away on our phones. We were headed straight towards a sign. Did I say "Hey Friend, we are about to hit a sign?" or a nice warning like "WATCH OUT". Nope, I screamed and slapped the phone out of her hand to get her attention. Or the time when...well never mind, I think you get it. Savanna + stressful = ridiculous reactions guaranteed to make bystanders laugh and wonder what the heck is wrong with said girl. Luckily though, I kept my head and was able to help my bro.
Anywho, after the smack-down, quite literally, I picked Brandon up and dragged him off to the ice where I handed him off to my dad who took one look at him and said "stitches". Hold it up, um where were the really fancy ice skating dudes and dudettes with yellow jackets skating around saving kids who got lost their fights with the ice? Well, after grabbing about a bajillion napkins and a bag of ice, we took off Brandon's skates, put on his shoes, explained what happened too many times to every curious eye in the lobby area, received free passes for the next time we wanted to split open one of our heads, called the mother goose, and headed off the emergency room.
We only had to wait ten(ish) minutes which was nice. And apparently the whole thing wasn't a very big deal because Mom stopped off at the neighbors annual pie party on the way over. Well, he got all cleaned up and we got see how deep it really was. And it really was deep. I think I will spare you that picture because it is so deep and it was gross. Just take my word for it.
Oh look! Here he is getting stitched up.
Ooo, that sea green is his color, doncha' think?
And the final product. See he is totally fine. I mean, maybe he can start a new zig-zaggy eyebrow trend. And he is rockin' that goose egg on his eye...and cheekbone. Luckily the scar will be mostly covered by his eyebrow. I mean I can't think of another good use for them 'brows.
Well, you know you raised your kids right when injured kid is able to joke about injury 5 minutes after the incident. And the almost guilty kid can take all the crap she gets about it and send it right back at everyone. And when injured kid sticks up for almost guilty kid. I think the parents did a mighty fine job with this batch.
No comments:
Post a Comment