Yesterday, at a store, an old man told me I should get myself fixed because I had one too many kids already.
I had only my three daughters with me.
At another stop, I sat in the car with the kids while Bill ran in for something, quick. But quick doesn’t happen when there are long lines. One child had to go to the bathroom. We waited, but the issue became urgent.
So, I interrupted Mary’s snacking, put socks and shoes on the one who kicked them off, got everyone out of the car and across the busy parking lot, went into the store (no husband in sight – I think he hid when he saw us coming), found the bathroom, and got the child into a stall.
She was a bit…stopped up, shall we say? No pressure, honey, I kept thinking. There are only six people standing here waiting for you to go. “How about we try again later,” I suggested. Nope. We were there for ten minutes.
…then, a new day dawns…
This child has been battling a cold for nearly a week and is still pretty miserable. And misery loves company. She really should just take a nap, but instead, she’s using naughty words and annoying her siblings for no good reason. To cap it off, she mooned her sister.
And because we have been emergency room-free for way too long now, Peter whacked his mouth on the window sill and cut it from left to right between the lip and the chin. We thought it went all the way through, but the doctor wasn’t sure. He ended up using dermabond on the outside and leaving the inside alone. I had to give Peter Advil this evening, and expect I’ll have to do it tomorrow too. This poor kid’s chin now has three scars.
The only thing that bothers me about this is the doctor’s instructions to keep an eye on the inside laceration and wash food out of it if necessary. Oh, the joy.
But this is all good stuff. Really. I’m smiling in the midst of it all. Even the desire to punch the old man in the nose was more an after-thought than a true wish. I’m sure he meant well.
It must be Lent. Ever notice that the more charitable you wish to be, the more difficult it is?