Three hours ago Lewis was about to fall on his face.

No afternoon naps and a lot of "Mama, come here!" had made me in need of a break.  I gave the boys some Bunny Grahams, plunked Lewis in a chair in the dining and went to the basement.  I brought down a load of laundry and took a pit stop at the computer to write a little blog post about being annoyed and  Art came down to see what I was doing.  Then we heard a big bang.  Then a cry.  

"I think Lewis fell down,"  Art said.  And we both went to see what happened.

Lewis had been climbing on the dining room chair I had sat him in when it tipped and he face planted on the floor.  Bloody, bloody gash over his eyebrow.  

While I was holding Lewis and trying to apply a bag of frozen peas to his wound I asked Art to get a gackoo from Lewis's room.  Art dutifully ran upstairs and came back with a yellow gackoo for his little brother.  (This from a boy who an hour earlier said, "My hands are cold so I can't walk!")  I kind of knew right away that it needed stitches but I waited 15 minutes before leaving just to be sure.  Then I was sure.  When I decided to go to Urgent Care I asked Art if he would like to go play at the neighbor's house or come with us.  He wanted to come with us.  He said we would need jackets because it's cold outside and he got the jackets off the coat hooks.  He said, "Here, Lewis!  You like this jacket, don't you?  Because it's red!"  

By now Lewis was totally recovered from the shock of his injury.  In fact, that only took a couple minutes to get over getting hurt.  But he still wouldn't let me put the peas on his boo-boo.  Meanwhile Art told me that I shouldn't have been in the basement, I should have been upstairs when Lewis fell down so he wouldn't have gotten hurt.  Kids.  They tell it like it is.

To get the stitches I had to hold Lewis's arms and the nurse held his head.  He screamed bloody murder while the doctor gave the anesthetic injections and Art stepped out of the room covering his ears.  But then I held Lewis and told him that part was over and Art came back in.  Now the little 1cm cut needed three stitches.  The doctor assured us that the area was completely numb and mentioned that some mothers had sung to their kids.  I asked Lewis if he would like me to sing him a song and he said, with the nurse and I holding him still again, "Hmmm hmmmm."  So I sang The Farmer in the Dell.  It's a current favorite.  While I sang Farmer in the Dell twice and Wheels on the Bus once the doctor sewed in three stitches and Lewis just locked his eyes on mine and listened.  He even giggled a little when I made a farting sound during Wheels on the Bus.  

On the drive home the boys were pretty tired.  By now it was 9:45.  Lewis fell asleep in the car and Art said, "Mama, when we get home I want to get my gackoo really fast and brush my teeth really fast and pee in the potty really fast and read books really fast so we can go to sleep because I'm really sleepy."

I find it incredibly ironic that I could stay perfectly cool headed and calm while Lewis got his stitches and the whole reason I retreated to the basement was because I was just annoyed with the kids.  It was a good whoop in the face for me, too.

p.s.  While all this happened Ben was shooting the best sporting event ever, according to him. It was a really great Twins game and he got home about half an hour after we did.