Tonight, I was racing around trying to get everything for tomorrow done. I have laundry and housekeeping tonight because we have company coming. (yay!). After I pick my dad up at camp tomorrow, if he’s feeling up to it (after a week with 10 year olds), we’re headed to the beach, so I opened the
deathtrap hall closet where everything f alls down on your head because it is doubling as a garage and holding all outdoor toys and equipment is neatly stacked in search of a spare beach chair for my dad. After introducing my daughter to a colorful variety of words (that are NOT swear words), I got the chair out and then quickly slammed the door shut so more stuff wouldn’t try to escape.
I slammed my finger in the door.
Blood spurted EVERYWHERE. My white work shirt looks like I just did surgery. There was a trail of blood all over the floor and blood spray covering the closet door. Holy cow. It hurt so bad–it still hurts, though the bleeding has stopped, thankfully. I could tell Selam was scared and I just couldn’t comfort her because it hurt so bad I could barely speak.
After the bandaids and the cleanup on aisle two, I got her into bed. I was tucking her in and she gave me about 10 million kisses.
“That’s because I love you…
but next time you should be more careful.”