wii live dangerously around here

Guess where I was Saturday evening? At the movies? No. A fancy bistro? No. At the walk-in emergency clinic with Zane? Yes!

Thank you wii!!!
( See the eye? Looks ALL BOY to me! By the way, that weird green stuff on his cheek use to be a scorpion. We'd gone to the toy store on free face painting day earlier that afternoon. I think the tears washed it away....)

I know the wii gaming system has all kinds of warnings about strapping the controller onto your wrist, standing away from all objects and people, and all that jazz--and now we know why. Zane and his friend, Andrew, were having a good game of Mario and Sonic table tennis when, from the living room, I hear a *crack!* sound. Andrew then comes out looking terrified and proceeds to lock himself in our bathroom. Then Ethan comes out telling me that Zane got hit with the wii remote. And then Zane comes out trying to stop all the blood gushing from his face. I calmed him down, got him holding a tissue over the wound, then talked a crying Andrew out of the bathroom-- letting him know that we understood it was just an accident (poor kid!--he felt soooo bad, and it was his birthday too!), then I took a good look at the cut and knew it was going to need stitches. Upon telling Zane this, he immediatley started screaming "No! No! They ruined my life once already!"

He was referring to our ER stitches trip back in August. I had asked him to take out the garbage unaware of the bean can lid sticking out the bottom. The one that sliced right into the top of his foot. It was six weeks of no swimming, flip-flops only, constant bandage changing misery for the kid. He hasn't had to take out the garbage since, but who could blame him for not wanting to go through it all again? This is his foot 6 weeks after the injury--the day we let my sister-in-law take out the stitches. It still looked nasty and I think it split open and had to be butterflied close at least twice more after this picture.

Two words convinced him to at least let me take him in to have the cut looked at this time (and they weren't "facial scar!").........I promised him a GRASSHOPPER MILKSHAKE. My biggest kiddo will do just about anything for that minty Oreo goodness hand scooped by the hole-in-the-wall drive-thru down the road.

Good thing for us that the doctor agreed to glue rather than stitch. It was virtually painless and we were in and out in an hour. And bless Zane's heart---- he even insisted we get a second milkshake to take by to Andrew so he would know he was completely forgiven.

Thanks for being such a trooper Zane. You're fun to hang out with--even in hospitals!

xoxo-----Mom :)