Wild Imagination

About every two months I get my hair cut and highlighted, which takes approximately two hours. It happened that my appointment landed on a Wednesday this time, which is the same day as soccer practice. Normally I come home from work and get dinner ready before the kids and dad get home from soccer practice. Except this time, my loving husband gave me the night off (similar to a spa day for some women). So I went out running and then went to my hair appointment (enjoying myself completely since I wasn’t interrupted by any phone calls).

After the appointment, I hop into my vehicle and look for my phone in my purse to call James to let him know I am on my way home. Except I realize I left my phone in the car and there were several missed calls all from him.

So I quickly call him. He answered the phone, but doesn’t sound to enthusiastic. Of course, I ask how things went and he answered with a “not good.” Obviously he was mad at me for not answering my phone and he won’t tell me what happened. I express that I would like to know what happened. He finally tells me that Child #3 was running and got hurt. Then he said he will tell me the rest when I get home.

At this point my stomach dropped because I started imagining the worst like she ran out into the road and a car hit her or she was running and hit her head hard.

Immediately I demanded to know what happened. So he told me that she was goofing around in her bedroom and ran from her sister’s bed to hers, but didn’t realize that her doll house was on the floor and stepped on it and cut the bottom of her foot really bad.

I calmly asked, “Did the bleeding stop?”

He replied, “Yes. She just fell asleep, but there was a lot of blood and she is in a lot of pain. I gave her some Motrin. I don’t know if she will be able to walk tomorrow.”

So this was a relief to me since I was expecting something way more serious. When I got home, I checked her foot out. It was a bad cut and will probably hurt tomorrow, but I’m pretty sure she will be okay.

Around midnight, Child #3 is standing in my bedroom doorway and says cheerfully, “Hi mommy.”

I reply, “Hi honey, you can come up on the bed.” She hops up into the bed with us, not to mention without even a hint of a limp.