Tuesday night, we had a broken chair in our kitchen. BigDaddyFish and Little Man hauled out their tools and spread them all over the room, and then discovered they needed a different size screw, or something, and so they trooped down to the basement to get what they needed. I was simultaneously helping Trout with her homework and feeding Sunny some grapes, so we just hung out up here.
First there was tussling, then bumping, then screaming and crying. The "I'm really hurt" kind of crying, vs. the "I am angry/embarassed/have hurt feelings/am tired/want to get my way" kind of crying. First, BDF calls us downstairs, but no sooner had I finally wrestled Sunny out of her booster seat straps than BDF comes up the stairs with Little Man in his arms. Little Man was clutching his foot. Which. was. covered. in. blood.
BDF put him on the kitchen counter and I kept asking what happened. Little Man kept crying and screaming that it hurt, and he wanted a band-aid (note to self: post bandaid story from own childhood sooner rather than later). We explained that we had to both wash off his foot and give it a proper examination. He wanted nothing of it. Nothing. We then resorted to those stupid weak parent bribery attempts to get the kid to do what we wanted, "We will give you cool bandaids/chocolate/cookies/a pony/a new car/your own apartment" (why do we do this? it NEVER works) and then, since none of those were takers, the stupid parent threats "If you don't let us look at it we'll have to go to the hospital and they'll stick a needle in it/it will fall off/it will turn green/it will grow another toe" (and why do we do this? not only doesn't it ever work but it is mean, too). Nothin', for at least a half hour. Wanna know what it took to get him to wash it off?
Letting him use the hose nozzle from the sink to wash it himself. He stopped screaming and crying.
We finally got it cleaned off, and boy was it nasty. Bloody, nasty, purple, right at the nail bed of his big toe. Of course, he had to do this on a day when he hadn't been wearing any shoes for most of the day, so his feet are FILTHY - he looks like a farm kid from the 1800's in the summer. His feet are practically black. So despite the hosing off, he is still pretty dirty. I keep asking what the hell happened. Somehow, he unscrewed the vise from BDF's work desk (I have no idea how - I didn't have the hand strength to do it, so now I'm weaker than your average almost 5 year old). BDF thinks he was trying to pick it up and just didn't have any idea how much it weighed.
He dropped it square on his bare foot. Right on the big toe, just at the base of the nail bed.
Less than an hour after The Incident, though, he was back on the floor with BDF, using the screwdriver to fix the damn chair that started this mess. Although I was glad he calmed down and the chair was fixed, next time I'll just go buy a new chair at Target - that's safer.
We gave him a bath that night and band aided him up real good, then sent him to bed. Since then we've been washing it out and re bandaging it (and we need new Boy bandaids, as I can't convince him to go for either Barbie or the Care Bears), and keeping an eye on it, because he is walking on it and we don't think it's broken. However, it keeps breaking open and bleeding again and again, so this afternoon I took him in to have it looked at, because I'm concerned about infection and though I know he's going to lose the nail, I'm worried about how it's going to grow back in.
Of course, the pediatrician doesn't like how it bumps up at the base of the nail bed, so she wants it x-rayed.
Fortunately, the radiology lab is less than a mile away, so we dash over there 5 minutes before closing (did I mention that I did this in the afternoon because I had to take my grandfather to have cataract surgery yesterday and follow up today? No? Sorry, didn't have time) and they take the x-ray. We are in and out of the office in 15 minutes, including paperwork (note: this doesn't happen in DC. Ever.)
Little Man says x-rays are fun and they tickle, and he liked that he got to lay on a special pillow that moved up and down like a ride. I couldn't go in because of the 7 month gestational state of his brother.
Little Man was very brave. I think he liked all the attention at the lab - and he got TWO stickers.
Since it was so close to closing, we won't get the results til morning. If it's broken, he'll need to see an orthopedist to decide how to treat it since it's a pretty nasty wound.
And he starts preschool in the morning. He will be 5 next week. He said next time he drops a vise on his foot, he won't be afraid of the x-rays.
I told him he needs to give up the vises.