Such boys
Evidence that I may be too old to rock sleep deprivation

Max makes it better

Max was scheduled to make dinner tonight, which usually puts him in a pretty good mood. HoweverTre finished his LAST SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT just as Max was starting dinner. This meant that Tre was done - DONE! -  with school for the year, and was now feeling the warmth on his face of the dawning of a golden summer, full of promise and probably ice cream. Max, on the other hand, still has one report on Calvin Coolidge overshadowing him, dripping large globs of doom down his neck.

And lo, it was sad.

Max wept and grumped through most of dinner preparation. I was a little worried that we'd all push back from the table with intense transferred angst, ala Like Water for Chocolate. However, we seemed to dodge that bullet, and after the meal the boys spilled out of the house to play some large, free-range version of tennis, with no net and several neighbor kids.

After twenty minutes or so, I looked out the window to see Max limping toward the house. There was a knot of kids trailing him, chattering excitedly about ALL THE BLOOD. Soon the door banged open and in hopped Max, gore dripping from his big toe.

"I tripped," he grinned, waving the toe in question at me. I pointed to the bathroom, and he hobbled off. Clay was inconsiderately GONE at the time, off getting fitted for a tux for a friend's wedding, so I - the one WITHOUT combat medical training - was left to deal with it myself. And I was fine, I really was, until I leaned over Max's foot, propped in the sink, turned on the water, and saw the large flappy chunk of toe gently waving from under the current.

Gahhhhhhh. Squirrelly sensation in the knees. Skin is feeling sort of alive and icky. NOT OKAY.

I casually leaned against the wall and thought happy thoughts whilst my son laughed at me heartily. Sweet boy, that one. He's totally out of the will.

Eventually (because I'm The Mother, and that's how I roll), I got the mess cleaned up, ointment-ed, and bandaged. Max hopped around on one foot, stopping periodically to watch the bandages slowly saturate with blood. He dragged a chair out to the middle of the cul-de-sac, so everyone could play AND admire his wound at the same time. He wore sunglasses and grinned at the assembled kids like they were his entourage.

I understand that wounds happen, particularly as outdoor play ramps up with the warm weather. What I DON'T understand is how a blood-spewing toe is the antidote to the end-of-the-school-year-blues.

But then, I guess it's not really my job to understand.



EWWWW! Um, good job, mom!


I accidentally poured boiling water over my feet when I was a kid. This was at the beginning of Easter vacation and I can still vividly remember just how disappointed I was when the bandages came off before I got to go back to school and flaunt my 2nd degree burn before all my classmates.


Your description of the wound made my skin
crawl just reading it. I have four kids,
two of which are boys so I am used to dealing with gory wounds, still gives me
the heebie jeebies every time though.


Um... ew.

You're not a boy, that's why you don't understand. Wrong chromosomes.


Remember Tom Sawyer's mortified toe?


EW. And that's all I can say.


Grody. Boy children are awesome, aren't they?


I am not good with bloody wounds. This is an understatement. I suppose I could step it up if called upon, as I too am Mother, but hmmm. Somehow it seems more likely that I would drag the kid to a neighbor's door and faint (if dad wasn't home). :)

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