I was out of town this past weekend and daddy stayed home with our sweet kiddos. I loved having some 'ME' time but what I didn't love was the phone message I got.
'We are leaving the hospital now and headed back home from the emergency room. There was a screwdriver and a hand.'
What, wait a minute. I didn't understand who was hurt or what happened. So I called and called and called for 20 minutes straight before I finally got through. And yes, everyone was OK. It seems that our oldest needed another bug jar for his new little toad and my wonderful husband was fixing it all up. He was recycling one of the past bug jars and reopening the holes the lid. He had to use a lot of force to push a little screwdriver through it. When it finally went through, it went all the way, through in a hurry, right through his hand. Very close to going out the other side. Still gives me the heebee-geebees.
Our youngest was naked, of course, potty training. So everyone was running around trying to stop the blood, get dressed, and get into car seats. They reached the ER in one piece and my husband's hand had a good prognosis. The screwdriver had gone through a perfect spot and just missed a tendon. It was apparently very swollen and mostly numb for the first couple days. By my return he was using it freely and saying it wasn't that bad.
I am so glad I missed out on that whole ordeal. I wonder what will happen when I leave again?
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