I put the camera down, walk within feet of the swing that Kaeley and Simon are now sitting on. Nathan grabs the outer rim, heaves the weapon to the side, and fails to get out of the way in time. The yellow plastic lightly hits him on the forehead and he's instantly screaming. I was a foot away. At the sight of blood I scramble in my purse for the wipes, which were not with me, so I grabbed the only diaper in my purse and pressed it against his forehead as mothers around us ran to help. An ER nurse/mom (who I really think should live with me and go wherever I go) asked if I wanted her to look at it. "Yes. Why don't you do that." Ugh. Blood and cuts. Yuck. It was a small nick, especially compared to our other experiences, but it was advised that we go to urgent care for stitches. So we packed up and drove off into three hours of traffic for our urgent care in Torrance. Why, you might ask, didn't I call insurance to see where our local urgent care was in Santa Barbara? Well, I had four children with a picnic lunch that needed packing and a diaper pressed against my son's bloody forehead and the brain can only carry so much. |
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