I needed a few minutes last night and Mr. Clean graciously allowed me to escape for a bit while he held down the fort. Until about ten minutes later when he raced into the library himself to track me down. Sans kids. All three kidlets were in the car and I was fortunately right by the entrance so Mr. Clean did not have to go far to find me. K.Z. had been "skating" in his socks on our foyer floor when he tripped and lacerated his toe pretty badly on the edge of a tile. Due to the amount of blood and the "ick" factor we thought it best to take him to the ER (I will spare you the details of the laceration itself, except to say it was super icky). Mr. Clean had bandaged him up at home (way to go Super Dad) so I never even had to see the cut until later at the hospital.
So... at 18:02 we registered at the ER, got our little beeper (think "Outback Steak House", but without free appetizers while you wait) and both settled down for a long winters nap. At 23:05, FIVE hours later we left with the world's most expensive band-aid. The laceration was on the verge on needing a stitch or two, but the doctor felt it would be alright to forgo that option, probably due to the panic that was caused simply by applying iodine to cleanse the wound.
The doc ordered an x-ray or two to make sure no damage had been done to the toe (um... except the huge cut?) and more than likely to make us feel like this visit was simply "not for naught" (I have always wanted to use that expression, but it felt too haughty... hey, there's another one!). I would have felt better if he had at least thrown in some Dermabond or a butterfly bandage, but he didn't. So home we went with a mummy wrapped foot and instructions to see our pediatrician within 2-4 days.
I need a momma minute. Maybe a trip to the library?