one difference between men and women
It all started when James (one of our beloved tenants whom we delight greatly in giving a hard time) sat on our coffee table and busted the top straight through, rendering it completely useless. We had reminded James many times before of the poor condition of our wicker-like chest (which had been playing the role of coffee table the past seven years), so he can’t say he hadn’t been warned.
Fast-forward one week with our new wooden coffee table making itself at home in our living room. Now, we love our new table, but it seems to have this feature about it that our other pseudo-table didn’t possess.
Four sharp, wooden corners.
I was in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast when the boys decided to build a fort in the living room (which, of course, involved propping up pillows and draping blankets over our new table).
Next thing I knew, Sam was sprinting towards me holding his bloody head in both hands and wailing in an unknown language.
I scooped him up, sat him on the counter, and tried to clean up his forehead as best I could (which wasn’t looking great at the time). And for some comedic relief, I threw in “So, how is the table, Sam?” which didn’t seem to make him laugh the way it did me.
It’s a hard call to make (mothers will agree) as to when you should take your child to see the doctor. There are just so many factors involved.
Does he really need to be seen by a doctor or can I care for him at home? Where should I take him? Pediatrician? Urgent Care? ER? Who is going to watch Peter? Dare I take Peter with us during his nap time? (Don’t worry, I silenced Crazy Jen) How badly is it snowing, anyways? How much is this going to cost? He will probably get sick just sitting in the waiting room! Do not overreact.
I’ll stay at home.
But what if he needs stitches? What if his head gets infected? What if it doesn’t stop bleeding? What if he really did mess up my new coffee table?! (kidding)
I needed a second opinion.
This is when I enlisted the help of my Trusty Medical Council. I’ll spare you a photo, but be grateful, I didn’t spare them. I took a picture of Sam’s head and texted the council for some advice.
Their responses were as follows:
Melinda (Sam’s Aunt; Nurse for 10+ years): “Yeah, Jen. I think he does need stitches, you don’t want it to scar.”
Colleen (Friend; ER Doctor): “Yes, Sam definitely needs stitches, especially given the direction of the gash on his forehead. Stitches will reduce scarring.”
Sassy (Jen’s mother; no medical experience): Calls immediately to tell me how much she loves Sam and how I must take good care of her baby…all while reminiscing of the time I once needed stitches as a little girl.
Gigi (Joe’s mother; no medical experience): Calls immediately to send her love and encourages me to take Sam to the doctor.
Joe (Sam’s father; after breaking his arm in a football game, asked if he could finish out the game): “It’ll be fine. It doesn’t look that deep.”
Papa (Jen’s father; fought in the Vietnam War): “Neosporin and a Band-Aid”
As it turns out, Sam did in fact need stitches. Three to be exact and he was so very brave.
And since then, our new table is now donning these cushiony little corner guards to prevent any future fort-building mishaps that might occur.
We learned a lot from this experience. First, buy the table guards before the kids start playing with the table. Secondly, always take the advice of the medical experts.
And lastly, everything is always James’ fault.