Mom, emergency!

My kids throw around the word emergency as if it's a common every day occurrence.  I have tried, and tried to explain the story about the boy who cried wolf, but still it's "Mom, come quick!  It's an emergency!" ALL. THE. TIME.

It was a Sunday night.  Jason needed to make a Menards run in order to finish up a project he was working on (and I try to never stand in the way of Jason wanting to finish a project!).  

I was pealing and cutting about 200 pounds of peaches into slices (okay, it only felt like 200 pounds, it was probably more like 20) when I heard those words again: "Mom, come quick!  It's an emergency.".  I put the knife down and walked calmly to where I heard Eli's voice.  I was in no way prepared for what I saw.  Eli's leg was sliced open, dripping blood every where.  What I could see on the inside of that cut I still can't talk about without getting light headed.  I brought him inside the house and to the kitchen while he left a bloody footprint with every step.  I grabbed a kitchen towel, wrapped around him and helped him to the car.  No doubt about it, we were going for stitches.

I went back in the house to find David, who, of course, was running around with no pants on and covered from head to toe in dirt.  Classy!  I quickly threw a pair of pajama shorts on him and buckled him into his seat.  

As I drove to the hospital I tried frantically to get ahold of Jason.  The third time was the charm.  I told him to get out of the store and meet us at the emergency room.  After I hung up with him it occurred to me that I had three children who were going to have to sit and wait and wait and wait in a quiet hospital.  Nope.  That wasn't going to work.  I called my friend Terri, who always answers her phone and... it went to voicemail.  Ok, next.  I called my friend Pam who answered almost immediately.  Luckily Pam lives very close to the hospital and she was also able to "talk me down" like a 911 operator.  She met me at the hospital, took David from me, took Ruby from Jason and was on her way.

For the next five hours we waited, and watched crazy YouTube videos, and talked with other patients, and grew very impatient.  Eli entertained the staff as much as possible with his HIPAA joke.  Oh?  You want to hear it?

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
HIPPA
HIPPA who?
Can't tell you.

So I digress... the shining moment in all of this was when Eli said, "I'm just so glad it was me and not David!".  I got weepy.  I can't say David is the most popular boy here all the time.  He is demanding.  He tends to hit, kick, bite, you name it.  He makes sensory-seeking messes all the time and we sometimes fear taking him to public places.  Still, his big brother loves him enough to endure 14 stitches in his place.  That my friends is love!

After x-rays, 4 internal and 10 external stiches, many laughs and no tears, we were sent on our way (at midnight!). 

After sleeping until 1pm the next day, Eli was as good as new.