If you look closely at this little two year old boy, you'll see some blood splattered on his green shirt (second shirt, I won't show you the first) and a cute little bandage peeking out from under his toddler chin. Porter Gray took a hard fall on our hardwood floors last week. It was our first big boo-boo and I had no freaking clue what to do. I mean, do I really have to be a mom and make mom decisions during times like these? Can't I just hide under a blanket and cry? That's what I felt like doing. So I called two different nurses and sent approximately 832 texts to Dan and ended up throwing him in the car seat and taking him in to our pediatrician for an evaluation. The first two nurses who saw him thought he would probably need stitches. But the overly-confident doctor said she could glue his chin back together like good ole' humpty dumpty. So that's what we did.
There were tears. Big ones.
And lots of screaming.
But then came the SUCKER.
A red one you guys.
When we got home, I told Porter that he was such a brave boy and asked him if his chin hurt.
He looked down at his red sucker, then back up at me, and said ...
"let's do it again, mom!"
Let's definitely not.