Reenactment

Last time I was on vacation with the boys on the awesome horse island, we had an excellent time with relatively few events requiring medical attention outside of shell bits on ballsacks, which did not so much require medical attention as it did detailed focus on un-porcupining the ballsacks. However, on the last day the boys were climbing enthusiastically all over some very sharp rocks. I was all, “Be careful boys, those rocks are sharp.” Because I’m a really good mom following a long tradition of stating the obvious. So the sharp rock climbing eventually ended. Upon hopping off the sharp rocks onto the soft beach, the younger hooligan stabbed his head into an overhanging tree branch, slicing open his very cute scalp. I was all, “Shit.” The elder son was all, “Wow, mom, his head is really bleeding a lot.” The younger, more scalply compromised son was all, “Scream jump scream jump scream bleed.” Interestingly this was a fairly remote beach to which we had had to hike a tiny hike from our car, after driving fairly far into the wildlife preserve. So that was great, then, logistically.

I took off my shirt (calm down, swimsuit on underneath but I would have done it regardless because I’m selfless like that) and applied it to young son’s head, while very calmly stating to my elder son that 1.) There would be no comments, positive or otherwise, on the amount of blood coming out of brother’s head; and 2.) He would need to follow all of my instructions quickly and without question, and we could discuss any of it later. I compressed the bleeding scalp wound of the younger son, encouraging him to walk back to our beach spot. Elder son gathered all the things, and we hiked up to the car. Sons in car, head attended to, then the long drive commenced. Elder son was instructed to be comforting to younger son. That was attempted. He was all, “Hey, the blood isn’t even in your eyes anymore!” I retracted that instruction and provided clearer direction: Hold his hand.

We arrived at the ED, took care of the head (9 stitches), and carried on with the rest of our trip. All in all it was fine; a manageable wound situation.

In my most recent trip to horse island, we visited that beach. And reenacted the head wound scenario, so that my sons could feel like they were there with us. In photos:

Overall I was pretty much cracking myself up over the whole reenactment scenario. The boys were less enchanted with my photo essay than I was, which was lame and disappointing. I thought they’d really respond to my interpretation of our shared memory of Tootsie’s head wound, but apparently not. Hopefully they’ll find a way to live in this world with some joie de vivre in spite of this.