I guess we’re lucky to have made it two years without a scraped knee.  In fact, I’ve only seen Dom’s blood once when he bit his tongue.  Even then, that was barely a scratch, and we were both over it in a matter of seconds.

There was the “Did he swallow a battery?” incident (Answer:  No, he didn’t) and the “Getting checked out after a car accident” worry (He was fine).  And there was the time after a short fall when he did that “Holding my breath until I’m blue” screaming.  All in all, we’ve been very lucky.  Which is a good thing, because I saw his blood today and nearly passed out. 

He wasn’t listening to me tell him to slow down, and he ran ahead of me down the sidewalk.  One croc went one way; the other went the other way, and down the boy tumbled.  I was fine.  I told him he’d be okay and I kneeled down to help him up.

Dom stood up, hiccupping sobs with tears rolling down his cheeks.  I leaned over to give a quick once-over to his knee…and there was a river of blood pouring from it.  I’d like to say that I kept my cool and calmly cleaned and bandaged his knee.  I’d like to say that I kissed it, made it better, and gave him a Popsicle. 

Nope.  I stopped breathing, fell onto my butt, and started screaming.  My husband raced out of the apartment, convinced that one of us was dying.  Once he’d assessed the situation, he raised an eyebrow and took Dom inside.  Where he cleaned and bandaged his knee, kissed it and made it better, and gave him a lollipop.  Bless him; he didn’t even call me a wimp. 

If anyone has a large amount of bubble wrap they’d like to give away, I’d love to take it off of your hands.  The boy might look like the Michelin Man when I’m done, but I guarantee he will never bleed again.