Sunday, April 16, 2006
Sunday, bloody Sunday
The important part: all is well. The scary part: OmegaDotter, happily dancing along the wooden curb at the park on her way to the playground, trips, falls into the iron fence face first, and proceeds to bleed all over the place. So for fifteen minutes, a worried OmegaMom sits on the door frame of the car, cuddling a weeping dotter, stanching various floods of blood with her T-shirt and gobs of paper towels, and wonders if we have to make a trek to the emergency room. Broken nose? Broken tooth? (No, no, just lots of blood.) The "whew!" part: OmegaDotter decides at the end of the fifteen minutes that she really, truly does want to ride on the dinosaur after all. Ditch the ER idea. The "oops, I forgot what it would look like" part: OmegaMom and dotter arrive back home after a few hours; OmegaDad bounces over from his gardening to describe his afternon...and sees THE SHIRT!!! ALL COVERED WITH GREAT BIG BLOOD SPLOTCHES!!!! and goes into panic mode ("Where's the dotter?! What happened?!?!") before OmegaMom can repeat "It's all OKAY!" loudly enough so that it penetrates the panicky defenses. Nobody can prepare you for that OH MY GOD SHE'S REALLY HURT fear that clutches your gut. And, dayum, it leaves you feeling totally worn out afterwards. I don't like adrenaline rushes. But in the end, all is well, we're back home, OmegaDad had fun in the garden, dotter had fun at the playground, and OmegaMom got only a few more gray hairs out of the deal.