More Matthew. (Who else?)

Yesterday Matthew was riding his bike with his friend Sean.  I am CONSTANTLY having to remind the older boys to wear their helmets, so I was pleasantly surprised to see he had remembered on his own.  I made a mental note to commend his responsibility, and a little while later he parked his bike and came inside.  I asked him where his glasses were and he remembered he left them at Sean’s house, so he rushed out to get them.

Is anyone sensing some foreshadowing here?

SURE ENOUGH,  a few minutes later our neighbor bursts through the door and shouts “Matthew’s hurt bad!”  I was so concerned that I ignored his poor grammar and hurried out.  There was a dazed Matthew, blood running down his glasses, down his face, down his coat, dripping on his sneakers- blood everywhere.  He “didn’t have time” to put his helmet on, so instead we spent THE ENTIRE EVENING getting sutured and tested for brain trauma. 

Four stitches on his forehead later he was back to his old self, even hatching a scheme to get the tooth fairy to feel sorry for him so that she would leave extra money.  (He lost his tooth at school yesterday.)  The tooth fairy wanted to point out that she had just forked over thirty bucks for a co-pay because he was too stupid to wear his helmet while on the two wheeler he had just learned how to ride without training wheels, but with great effort instead just replied “hmm.”

He also wondered aloud if his head injury would prevent him from doing his math homework, but by the time I finished laughing he had wisely abandoned that idea.

So that was last night!  Since I was watching Matthew get stitched up like a quilt I didn’t have to cook dinner, which was a nice break.  Mike took care of feeding the other kids.  (Microwaved chicken nuggets, pickles, and milk is too a nutritious, well-rounded dinner.  In some countries.  Like, the third world ones.  Maybe.)


You may remember from previous posts that Matthew is TERRIFIED of anything canine, while simultaneously insisting he wants a pet dog.  (He is not concerned with so-called “logic”.)  On the way to school this morning he informed me he “doesn’t want a German Shepard anymore.”  (Probably a good idea for someone scared of puppies the size of hamsters.)  So anyway, now he wants a “mudge”.  “A whatnow? A mutt?”  [insert eyeroll here]  “No, a MUG.”  (Duh, mom.)  “Do you mean a pug?  With the squished up faces?”  “Yes, one of those.  Because they have little tails.”

The doctor assured me there was no concussion, no brain damage.  If it was anyone but Matthew I may be wondering about that, but no- he is definitely his normal Matthew self.

February 13, 2009. Uncategorized.

One Comment

  1. Meletha replied:

    First blog I read after wakeup from sleep today!

    Are you tension? panic?

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