Confession Tuesday, or the Great Snozola Debacle

I know that it is confession Tuesday. I don’t wanna confess. So here’s a story for you. Just another regular, normal ol’ evening in the Harrell household.

Last night Tom and I ran up to Barnes and Noble for a little while. I had been waiting for a couple of books to come in (Three Cups of Tea and The Time Traveler's Wife), and they had them in stock. I wanted to get them before we leave on "the big trip" so that I would have some reading for the road. So off we go.

The children stayed at home. My son, the youngest, is eight. He stayed with his sisters who are both teenagers and who baby-sit regularly for him as well as nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc. No problem.

Tom and I arrived at home books in hand. We open the door, and my son is lying on the couch with ice on his nose. Hmmm…ok. So, I ask for the story. My oldest was in the shower and saw nothing. She only exited the shower, clad in a towel and dripping upon the screaming in the living room. The middle one, very nonchalantly, says while shrugging, “I don’t know what he was doing, but he stabbed himself.”

This was stated as though there was no reason at all for any concern from his mother.

Of course, being the calm and reasonable person that I am, I refrained from panic or outrage. I merely resorted to a slight tone elevation in my voice. And by slight, I really mean tons.

So, it appears that while trying to take a tag off of something with the largest pair of scissors known to man, practically akin to hedge clippers, my son stabbed himself up inside his right nostril. There was much blood, and his little nose swelled completely shut on that side. Thankfully, the blade did not exit the other side of the nostril and pierce his nose all the way through. (While I am aware that nose piercing is in style these days, I hardly find that it is trendy to do this yourself with rather large scissors. Call me crazy...)

So there I was for the evening…bag of ice in hand holding it to the swollen and bleeding nose of my son debating back and forth as to whether or not the doctor could put stitches up inside of an eight year old nose. Eventually it did stopped bleeding, and we dodged the trek to the emergency room. Bless his heart; he will have to finish up these last couple days of school with a swollen and sore nose.

I think that... just perhaps... it’s time to brush up on the babysitter class information. But really you know…it’s not like they were babysitting. It was only their brother.

Yep, just another regular, normal ol’ evening in the Harrell household…