Payton had an adventure last night. About 1 0' clock he comes stumbling upstairs. He tells me he's fallen off his bunkbed. He tells me his arm is hurt...I lay him down on the couch and tell him I'll be back with a blanket. I went to wipe his tears before I went and noticed in the darkness that his eyebrow was black... "oh great, it's blood!" I called for reinforcement and two seconds later Mark says, "We gotta go." So, Molly (our so sweet sister-in-law) came up and off we went.
On the way to the ER, Payton let us know he woke up and was getting out of bed to check what time it was. If it was in the "5's, 6's, or 7's" he was going to stay up and play. Me: "5's?!!! - go back to bed!" He obviously takes bing a morning person to the extreme. Anyhow, he didn't realize how close to the edge he was when he rolled over, fell and cracked his head on Jono's nightstand.
He was a brave dude and was pretty calm through the whole ordeal, minus the shots. But a minute worth of shots in an open head wound would get anybody ornery. He yelled, "You're touching my brain!!!" Which is probably what it felt like :) After he was well assured he was numb he lay perfectly still for his 6 inside & 10 outside stitches. 2 hours after it began, he was resting on the couch, doped up on Loritab, looking forward to his vacation from school and promised sports cards.
Battle wounds are part of growing up. He's got his first good scar comin' on, but hopefully he'll leave his face alone from here on out!
