Ben's bad day...

Remember my aversion to looking at my bleeding children's faces? Yeah. So yesterday at church I was chatting with a friend in the hall while my children played in one of the classrooms. Ben and Thomas were running up and down the rows of chairs, playing some game, when Ben decided to trip (he didn't really decide, but, well, it happened) and smash his face into one of the hard folding chairs. Blood started gushing not just from his face, but from that scariest-of-all-places for Becky, his mouth.

You would have been so proud of me. I stayed calm, held my hand over his bleeding mouth, and walked him to a nearby restroom. I got a wet papertowel to staunch the bleeding, and I comforted him all I could. A neighbor and her kids as well as Thomas' friends were gathered around, all worried about Benny's mouth.

And still, with all those people around, with my motherhood on display for so many, I chickened out at actually LOOKING into his mouth. I expressed my wimpiness out loud, and some lady that I don't even know came up, took Ben's face in her hands and looked calmly at his bleeding lip and *GASP* tooth. You know I was panicked, but I still didn't have the heart to survey the damage.

She said everything was fine.

Fortunately, the blood was slowing, but Ben was still unconsolable. I took him home; he cried the whole way, and as soon as was able, I got to Shane to take a more thorough exam of his mouth. By this time I could see from my cursory, wimpy glances that his tooth looked a little out of place and that his top lip was cut pretty good. Shane felt the tooth in question, which luckily was not loose, and declared him fine. Despite some dicomfort while eating, Ben was fine, and his tooth seems to be fine.

Whew. Got by on that one by the seat of my pants.

So then, the boys went fishing with Shane and our good friend John and his kids. They happened to catch a catfish, which apparently sport really sharp spines along their bodies. Well, not two seconds after John told all the children to not touch the fish, Ben grabs it, starts screaming, and holds up his bloody palm. Apparently his ears were just for show that day. Injury number two.

Later that night, we were getting ready for dinner, and Ben was playing on his bike, barefoot. Wouldn't you know it that he stubbed his toe on the patio stones. He comes into the house, screaming for me and a bandaid, holding up his bloody toe as proof that he is gravely injured.

Thank heaven for willing people to look in my children's mouths for dangling teeth, and for bandaids and all the rest of it. Needless to say, it wasn't one of Ben's best days.

Plus today, he's sporting a fat lip, thanks to the impact of hitting the chair with his face. I guess I just have to be grateful that everyday isn't like that! I wish I had a picture to share. It really is kind of cute, in a sad sort of way.