Saturday started out simple enough. I was doing laundry and cleaning (plus sneaking onto Pirates of the Carribbean Online in between loads), and the boys were taking advantage of the relative warmth by playing on the trampoline. I was planning on heading outside to do a few thing when Thomas came in and said "Daddy, I need help." It should have clued me in that he never calls me Daddy anymore, but the blood streaming down his face was a better indication. I checked the top of his head and found a quarter inch cut. There was no telling how deep it was, so I announced that we were heading to the emergency room. I called April along the way, and she got us into Tanner Clinic instead. One of the advantages of her working at the hospital is she can see how busy the ER is. Thomas ended up about an hour later with two stitches. He panicked when the doctor told him he needed them, but on the way home he said it wasn't too bad.
At dinner April and I asked what happened. The boys were shooting hoops on the trampoline, blocking each other when Thomas leapt up and smashed his head. Patrick saw the blood, and told him to find me (we harassed Patrick for not escorting Thomas, but he did show good skill in seeing it and knowing what to do). Patrick also said Thomas stopped to put his shoes back on, and he told Thomas not to bother. My guess is this is when the blood started to run done his face.
So the first injury requiring stitches. Not too bad. I worked with a guy who was in the ER about every week with his youngest son, so I consider myself lucky.
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