Yes, 37 stitches! 17 visible and 20
dissolving stitches. It all happened last Saturday evening. I was ignorantly enjoying dinner with my brothers and sisters in
Las Vegas (at an amazing
Chinese restaurant, might I add) while my Johnny was in the ER getting his forehead stitched up. My return flight came in on Monday night, long after bedtime. So when I got home, I peeked in on all of our sleeping children, and then last of all, my sleeping husband. When John heard me, he rolled over and said " I have to tell you something...Johnny has stitches...I didn't want to tell you while you were away because I didn't want you to worry."
After thoroughly looking over my little boy and asking John about a thousand questions, I got the story.
It turns out that John was working in the yard Saturday evening while Maddie and Johnny were playing on the neighbors playground, kiddie corner to our own. John had told them three times that it was getting dark and time to go inside, when suddenly he heard screaming. Johnny had taken one last slide down the slide, tripped and fell right onto a big, metal, toy dump truck. (Or as Maddie would say "He slid down the slide, flipped over and landed on a truck...and then I saw his brain!") Luckily, she didn't really see his brain, but the sharp edges had cut through all seven layers of his skin (down to the membrane...EEEK!) and he had a gaping wound because it was in a right angle shape instead of a straight line.
As John led him inside the house, Johnny lamented "I wish I would have come when you asked!" Poor kid! Such a huge consequence for such a common childhood offense. I felt so sad that I wasn't home to help, but at the same time, I'm not sure that I would have handled the situation as well as John. Not only did he get him to the hospital without fainting, even once, but Johnny came home thinking that his wound was awesome and that all of the girls would love it.
John really does have a talent for making any situation seem lighter and funnier than it actually is, and in turn, it does make it better. I'm glad that he was around at this time, and that Johnny didn't have to witness his mother fainting, crying or panicking. Johnny is much better now, and he gets his stitches out tomorrow.