Alive

This morning at gymnastics Sam choked on a granola bar, couldn't breathe, then threw it up.

Then we get home from school and do lunch and Sam goes down. I am at the computer (where else?) when Jack starts SCREAMING in the living room (about six feet away, max). I run over there and say:

"What is it?"

He is holding his sweatshirt up to his mouth and he wails, "I need to go to the HOOOOOOOOOOOSPITAL!!!!!!"

I realize I am going to get no good info out of him so I pull down the sweatshirt and look, and see blood covering his molars. I say "WHAT HAPPENED" to him firmly.

"I don't want to SAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

"Jack, just tell me!"

More crying. "I was moveringmuc and then boeurd."

"WHAT??"

"I was trying to carry three things but I only had two hands!!!!!!!!!!"

"What happened to your mouth?" as I blot the blood with a towel that was conveniently next to him.

"I was trying to carry three things but I couldn't so I put one in my mouth."

"Which one?" I still don't see any of the things he was 'carrying'.

"The paintbrush!"

Yep, he was holding a paintbrush in his mouth, he fell into the couch, and it went up into the roof of his mouth and punctured a hole. This is one of those things that people warn you can happen (and I have warned HIM about before, probably more like with a pen), but you never see. So I get a flashlight out and check out the damage and it is pretty sick but the bleeding is slowing. I go to our great neighbors' house and they happen to have homemade popsicles on hand, so he is covered. I would also like to say THANK GOODNESS that I didn't have to pull it out b/c I don't think I could have handled that.

No hospital today (at least not yet).

I told Keith and he said "It is amazing any of us get out of childhood alive."