So! This morning, my sweet daughter Emma decided to make me toast as a surprise. What was REALLY surprising, though, was that she decided to cut it with a gigantic butcher knife, and cut the bejeebus out of her finger.
Because she wanted to keep it a surprise, she decided not to tell me (I was reading, BAD MOM, and didn’t notice) and bravely tried to stop the bleeding. After soaking through a couple towels, she came out sobbing (and I still hadn’t noticed…good Lord) and then my Super Mommy Nurse persona kicked into fantastic, butt-kicking action.
If you’re a mom, you know about Super Mommy Nurse mode, so I don’t need to explain it to you. If you’re not a mom, here’s a quick blurb: basically, you become some kind of cross between Marcus Welby and George Clooney on ER, with a little bit of Nurse Ratched kicked in for fun. (Just kidding about the Nurse Ratched part. Maybe.)
Anyway, after like an hour of holding bloody towels on a gushing finger, it finally stopped. I assigned her brother to tell her funny stories to keep her relaxed, and of course, he went for the easy laugh: fart jokes. Picture this if you can: two little kids, one with blood all over her, one with a giant parrot toy, sitting together on the floor in the bathroom, laughing hysterically at fart jokes while Mommy talks to the advice nurse on whether she should get stitches or not.
Long story short, she’s fine, all’s fine, and I’m cleaning up blood as we speak. I mean, after I type. I’m not THAT coordinated.