He Keeps Me in Stitches

Well, unlike our last "sick weekend", we made it out of the house this weekend. Saturday we went out to a party, and Sunday we had a small superbowl party at our place. The weather was nice, so we were able to take the kids outside and play. Monday arrived and things were going well, Libby took her morning nap, I straightened up the house and started some laundry, then I sat down to lunch with the girls when Chucky came in the door with his hand bleeding. He cut himself while working with his machete, on the inside of his left pinky finger, right where it bends. I told him to go straight to the doctor and get some stitches, but he just washed it and put a band-aid on and went back to work. He called me a little later from the doctor's office and told me the only reason he went is so I wouldn't fuss at him anymore about it. Good. He got three stitches, but it's in a place that's hard to keep still and dry.

While I was cooking dinner, Emma, Libby and Chucky were playing in the floor. Libby got a little too close to Emma and pulled her hair really good. Emma yelled and pushed Libby, and of course Libby fell over in the kitchen floor. Chucky sat up and smacked Emma's leg and told her to go to timeout. I picked up Libby and realized she had a dirty diaper, so handed her to Chucky so I could finish cooking dinner. Chucky tried to change her diaper, but he couldn't hold down the wriggling baby and avoid poop and clean poop all at the same time with his hurt finger, so I went upstairs to help with that. There was blood on Libby's leg! OK so Chucky's stitches ripped out somewhere between the hair getting pulled and the poopy diaper. Great. I told him he couldn't go back to the doctor in the morning and tell him that his stitches ripped out when he beat his kid. Geez. It is now an Oliver story. It was all a little boring until the stitches ripped out, now it's definitely ours.