I was turning off the boy's computer one night as they were getting ready to go to bed when I heard this very loud thump, followed by screaming and a bunch of boys running into the office all talking a mile a minute. I am only catching bits and pieces of what each of them is trying to tell me as I am trying to climb over them and out of the office to investigate the thump. I finally get that Dub has taken a header off the kitchen counter. I shove the boys aside and run into the kitchen to find Dub sitting on the floor with his head in his hands crying. I survey the damage...
-blood? No blood
-obvious broken bones? No
-pupils equal? Check
-pupils reactive? Check
-ginormous goose egg? Present and accounted for.
Vootz, being the hero again gives him an ice pack, his "fluvy and bebe" (security blanket and teddy bear)and I give him some Tylenol, because judging from the size of that goose egg, he is going to have one heck of a head ache! Then I snuggle him in the recliner and he finally calms down enough that I can talk to him. Do some more testing...
-What's your name? W
-How old are you? 2
-Who's this? Bebe
-How many finger is this? 3
-What happened to you? I bonked it my head.
-How did you do that? I fall off it the counter.
-Why were you on the counter? I wuv firsty and getting a drink.
-You have been told to stay off the counter. Did you learn your lesson? No I bonked it.
-How's your tummy feel, is it going to throw up? No, I bonked it my head not my tummy.
Okay. Put Thomas the Tank Engine on for Dub, put the other boys in bed, assure them Dub will be fine. Call my dad (he's a fireman) to assure myself Dub will be fine. He list off all the check points I already did and tells me to give him Tylenol and put Thomas the Tank Engine on for him for an hour or so and make sure he doesn't throw up, then go through the check points again before putting him to bed. Make sure to wake him up after a couple of hours to check on him and then let him go back to sleep and he should be fine. Thank dad for the re-assurance that I am not being a bad mom by not taking my kid to the urgent care. (When I worked in the urgent care I hated it when "those" kind of moms rushed their kids into the urgent care for every little thing. Yet, sometimes I find myself having a hard time not being one of "those" kind of moms.)
Now that the adrenaline has ceased. I notice my shirt is soaking wet. What the heck! I look over at Dub and he is naked on the bottom half, wet clothes sitting beside him ON MY BED!
Me-"Dub did you pee on me?"
Dub(never taking his eyes off Thomas)-"No, I fall off the counter and scare it pee out of me.
Me-"When you fell off the counter, it scared the pee out of you?"
Me-"Would you please take your pee pee clothes off my bed and put them in the laundry? No, I can't, I got a bonk it."
I change my shirt and call Vootz in for a calmer version of the first story he was trying to tell me. It turns out Dub was squatting on the counter, facing the cupboard. While attempting to pour himself a glass of water from the just re-filled Brita pitcher the water in the top caused the lid to come off spilling it all over the tile counter top (CAUTION: Slippery When Wet!) and thus slipped off the counter backwards, landing back of the head first. Evidently peeing on the way down (CAUTION: Wet When Slipping!). Which got all over me while I was rocking him in the chair.
Note to any Brita executives that might happen by my blog. I love your pitchers but you need to make a locking lid for those suckers!