TOBIN'S FIRST EMERGENCY

7:40am - I'm still mostly asleep
7:41am - A nasty sounding shattering sound
7:41am - Kristen yells, "Nick! We have to go to the Emergency Room!"
7:42am - I'm dressed and getting Blane out of bed and loaded into the car...

While Kristen was getting ready for Church, Tobin was entertaining himself. Last night we had anchored a helium balloon under a glass jar candle on top of the entertainment center. While Tobin was playing this morning, he found the balloon had lost much of its air and the string was within his reach. He pulled the balloon, and the glass jar candle came down on top of him... (As Paul Harvey would say, "That's the rest of the story" But not quite.)

So we're on our way to the Emergency Room with Kristen holding Tobin in her arms, applying pressure with a towel, to the gushing laceration on the top of Tobin's head. Half way there - only a out 4 or 5 miles to the brand new SkyRidge Medical Center - Tobin's not crying anymore, and the bleeding is under control. It's right about this time that I pass a police car going 55 in a 45. I get pulled over. (Strangely enough, I had a dream last night that I got a speeding ticket...) I motion to the cop, to Tobin and Kristen in the front seat so hopefully she'd come and see what the problem was instead of taking time to run plates and the whole 9 yards. It worked and she came to see. I explained that my son had a huge gash on his head and we were rushing to the ER. She followed us there A) to make sure we were legit, and B) to make sure there was no domestic abuse case here.

So we make it into a room at the ER, and Tobin's smiling and happy. Yeah, SMILING AND HAPPY, bleeding from an almost 2 inch gash on his little blond head. The doctor couldn't believe what a tough and great kid he was. We know - he's amazingly tough, and ALWAYS happy. So the nurse had to hold him still while the doctor administered local anesthetic and then stitched him up. He wasn't smiling for that part, but wasn't as upset as he could have been either. Six stitches and 45 minutes later we were back on our way home.

Getting into the car to return home, Tobin was already done crying and back to [pretty much] his normal self. We got home and he was laughing and smiling and happy already. And so it's been the rest of the day. Tobin's Tobin, just with 6 stitches on the top of his head. Amazing.

He's got a ways to go to challenge my number of stitches (45 or so I believe) but he's already got one of those things that the girls will love to hear about as he gets older. Chicks dig scars.

But really - what is it with our boys and the ER just prior to their 1st birthdays?