Egg Head

Didn’t mommy say no running in the house? Nobody ever listens to mommy.   

I was in the basement, Paul was in the kitchen and both of us assumed the other was answering the doorbell. The only ones at the front door were the crazy barking dogs and the boys who excitedly waited for one of us to open the door for our friend Andrew who had arrived to watch Sunday night football.  Based on the chaos erupting upstairs, I figured Paul had gotten lost on the way to the front door and I headed upstairs. 

I opened the door at the top of the stairs at the precise moment Cooper, who was running full speed down the hall,  was there to slam the side of his head against the opening door. The impact launched him a few feet onto the base of an architectural column in the dining room where he slammed the back of his head on the corner at the base. I was stunned, shocked, freaked out and immediately riddled with guilt for the insane timing of it all.

Scooping him up, and running my hand against his head I could feel a huge egg bulging off his head. They call them eggs for a reason. Both boys have had lumps and bumps from various stunts but this was like no other. An extra large egg stuck on his head… it’s unbelievable. Somehow, he managed to not split his head open for which I must give him bonus points for.  Worried less about the bruise on his cheek from where he first hit the door, and knowing he didn’t need stitches, I couldn’t help but assume he must have cracked his skull after that. Right? Ice pack on his head, Cooper and I went to the ER as I licked my mommy guilt wounds wondering what kind of shit luck we have.     

My boys are made of titanium.  We’ve ended today with two bad headaches (his and mine), an ER co-pay, watching for signs of concussion and trying to explain to a four year old that walls do not have eggs that attach to your head. You get eggs on your head when you run into walls and doors. Cooper, while pondering the existence of his “egg” has yet to grasp mommy’s wisdom about “Why we don’t run in the house” and “Remember how mommy says if you run in the house you can hit your head and get a bad boo-boo and have to go to the hospital?” Yeah, let’s be honest, he’s still running in the house.

At the end of his day, he’s upset he didn’t get a popsicle like the other kids in the ER. Little does he know that all those popsicle eating kids probably have Swine Flu, which means mommy bets big that she’ll need yummy popsicles for when we start to oink with the flu. Off to check on my egg head, count my blessings and stock up on popsicles.

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