Apologies for my delay. I seem to be running behind these days.
Easter was a bit...how should I say it...
different this year.
Saturday night, we went to dinner at Bonefish Grill with Bubba and Grandpa. At the end of our meal, Bubba and Madi got up to go to the restroom. Shortly after they left, Madi returned to our table in a state of panic/confusion and said, "Bubba fell down!"
"What?" I replied in shock.
"Bubba fell down. She fell down. Come! Come!"
We were sick to our stomachs. Bubba had slipped on the floor and her head was bleeding. Someone called the paramedics, but being the strong (and stubborn--sorry Mom) woman that she is, she outright refused to go in an ambulance. We agreed to no ambulance on the condition that she agreed to go to the hospital.
On the way home to drop off Jimmy and Charlie, Madi pleaded her case that she wanted to go to the hospital, too. "But the Easter Bunny is coming tonight, Madi," I said.
She fell apart. "I don't want the Easter Bunny! I just want to be with Bubba!" she cried.
How could I possibly argue with that?
After four hours in the hospital, Bubba was finally discharged with 13 staples in the back of her head. Since they could not avoid snipping some of her hair, she insisted on wrapping her head in a bath towel. And for two days, it appeared as though she just came out of the shower.
On Easter Sunday, Madi and I were in the kitchen when we heard a terribly loud thud (and the sound banging glass) that came from our master bath. It was Jimmy. Evidently, he was cleaning the shower stall with the shower door open, and the floor got wet. Big mistake. He slipped and fell.
Jimmy quickly emerged from the bedroom with a towel held to his neck. I took one look at his laceration and said, "We're going to the hospital."
We called an injured Bubba (and Grandpa) to come to the house since Charlie was still asleep.
The situation wasn't really funny, but our nerves kicked in, and somehow the scene seemed comical to us at the time, so I snapped a picture for these two to remember. Madi was quick to point out that we were lucky this happened to them and not to Grandpa and me (the wimps).
Jimmy ended up with 11 stitches in his neck. We were in the exact same room in the E.R.!
So, this Easter, despite the circumstances, we are actually feeling quite blessed.
These two accidents could have been so. much. worse.
We now have two new nicknames in the family: Staples and Stitches