It had been one of those days.
You know, the kind you wish you could just redo. If only you could rewind and begin again how differently things might have turned out. For some reason, our girls hate Wal-Mart. Everytime we enter the doors it's like this little timer goes off in their brain that reminds them it's time to be bad. After wrestling with them for a half hour we finally decided it wasn't worth it- I headed to pay our dues to the Walton empire, and Brock was off to the van with the girls.
Full cart ahead, I made my way to the van only to see Brock with a look of shear terror on his face and blood covering his shirt, franticly motioning me to the van.
Before I could even get the door open I saw what he was so overwhelmed about.
Ella's chin gaping open and poring out blood--
My first "Mommy Accident" moment. I threw all the groceries in the van, threw Sophie in her car seat and held Ella in the back seat while Brock barged through Wilmington traffic to get us to the Medac, all the while explaining to me how Ella had tried to climb out of her stroller, unsuccessfully, and used her chin as landing gear in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
If you ask Ella, she would tell you that this was the worst 10 minutes of her life! Imagine an Eighteen month old confined to a medical table while the wonderful doctor and nurses used four stitches to sew her chin back up. She was a brave girl- she cried mainly when they cleaned it and numbed, then by that point she was so worn out that she just gave up and let them finish--
Then I got to step in as the conquering Mommy Superhero and swoop her up from the table.
She and Sophie slept the whole way home and by the time we stepped in the front door, she was ready to play. And while she'll never remember this moment, Brock and I will never forget the first time our blue eyed beauty looked up at us, pointed pitifully to her chin and said . . . . "booboo."
