Close call

My parents have a heavy, wooden, home-made bench in their back yard. The lid lifts up, and they store their basketballs and yard toys in there. The lid is heavy. And by heavy I mean it can crush a lot of things.

Last Sunday Jaida lifted the lid. Mya put her hands on the edge of the bench. Jaida dropped the lid. Mya didn't get her hand out in time. I heard the scream from inside. And knew instantly it was bad. You know the scream. By the time I got out there (I'm slower than I used to be) she had pulled it out, pulling lots of skin off in the process. It instantly began to swell. And she cried. And cried. And screamed. And cried. And shook. And quivered.

It took me an hour to get her calmed down. An hour. I tried comforting. I tried distracting. I tried treats. She wouldn't even take her binky. It was bad. Real bad.

And then I started talking about princess Tiana's underwear (because that's how my brain works). And the crying stopped. Temporarily at least.

And then she threw up.

My dad said nothing looked noticeably displaced so we decided to do the "wait and see" test. Wait and see if she uses it.

By Tuesday she still wasn't using it. It just hung there, limp and swollen.

We took her to Instacare for x-rays. Not a broken bone anywhere.

She just barely started using it on Saturday. 6 days.

It was definitely her worst life injury thus far. Unfortunately I'm sure there are more to come.

She wasn't a complainer though. Tough little kid. That's how we like 'em.