Tuesday, December 21

Sandwiches and Stitches

It all started because The Boy wanted a grilled cheese sandwich.

This past Saturday morning, my mother and my husband and I were scurrying about the house, trying to get it in order for The Baby's birthday party. My mom fed the kids breakfast, but some time later The Boy asked for a grilled cheese sandwich. I think I told him to wait, that I would get him one later. I may have just blown him off completely, deferring the situation to my mother.

I ran to Kroger to buy supplies for more Super Awesome Candy Cane Dip (and also to pick up the ingredients to the Easiest Truffles Ever, which my best friend makes, which I completely ruined, even though they're the Easiest Truffles Ever), and ran back home.

When I got here, B1 and B2 were having a dance-off in the living room. This is not a random occurrence in our house, we shake our tail-feathers on the daily. Except, on this particular day, our furniture was moved back to allow more dance floor, and our dining table chairs were moved in to provide party guests a place to sit. Again, The Boy asked for a grilled cheese sandwich, again, I told him to wait.

Clearly he had gone stark raving mad with hunger while I was out, and upon hearing that he wouldn't be immediately ingesting the gooey goodness of melted cheese on toast, The Boy proceeded to throw himself against a wooden chair. And split his head open.

this is his pitiful flesh wound face

this is his pitiful flesh wound

I don't know what it is all of a sudden with my kids and their head traumas, but they really need to cut it out. 

(Ok, so, he didn't actually throw himself onto the chair. He was dancing it out, and fell into the chair. But, fits of rage make for a much more interesting story.)

So, after a brief round of "Which parent gets to go to the ER this time?" I took my bleeding firstborn in to the clinic, where he was promptly stitched up. I watched the entire stitching without puking one bit. Make sure they spell my name correctly on my Mother of the Year statuette.

it took some work but I finally convinced him that chicks do, in fact, dig scars
When we called Jeremy on our way home to tell him about the head-sewing, he told us to stop and get something to eat for lunch.

The Boy's choice? Sonic. Where he got that grilled cheese sandwich after all.



  1. love it! Not that Bryton had to get stitches but I love that he finally got his grilled cheese!

  2. love it! Not that Bryton had to get stitches but I love that he finally got his grilled cheese!


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