Yes, low and behold it happened again. Exactly one week later at almost the same exact time. And yes, in the same spot.
After spending an evening at the Radisson watching VeggieTales perform on tour, my little man and I headed over to Target (my favorite store). I figured we were out and about, I had some things to return, plus we needed some toliet paper. When we go to Target, my little man always has to get those carts that seat more than one person, however the Target by us only seats two, not four. Ironically, my little man buckles in himself. I'm standing in line at the return counter, putting my coat in the cart, and I hear somewhat of a thud. Of course there is crying and blood. Yes, blood coming from the bottom of a chin. Still strapped into the seat, yet hanging down, somehow my little man slipped and the belt or possibly the handle caught hold of the bottom of his chin. As everyone is staring; I calmly unbuckle him, grab tissue from my purse, put my coat on, then his, and head out to the car so that I can make another trip to the ER.
After I buckle my little man into his seat I actually begin to lose it. What kind of mother am I? All the what if's ran through me head. What if I wouldn't have stopped at Target? What if I would have made him get a different cart? What if...etc, etc, etc.
First I call my parents. Speaking with my dad calms me a little, however I just needed someone to be with me. Next, I call Tinkerbell. She doesn't answer and I leave a message to please call me on my cell phone. Then, I call his father. I was actually thinking if my little man needed stitches there was no way I was going to be able to deal with it. As I am talking with his father Tinkerbell calls, as she has already left a message on my phone. She calms me down as any friend/mother would. I switch back to the father. He says he will come to the hospital. I clearly state that I am not asking him to do so, however he says he will. Great. What was I thinking!
We are sitting in the waiting room when his father arrives. He brings a stuffed Batman for his son. Although my little man was happy to see his dad, he sat with me the whole night, wanted me the whole time, and talked with me the entire evening. That was kind of sad. His father didn't even know his son could write his name. My son had to watch his parents sit in silence next to one another. Okay, there was brief conversation, no disagreements, and well, he hopefully realized that both his parents care about him.
Two and a half hours later my little man and I head home. No glue, no stitches, just paper stitches-like butterfly ones. At first I felt bad that his father sat there for all that time, but then I thought well so did I, plus the week before. And how about all the times I sit at every single activity my little man is involved. The times I have to take off of work so I can take care of him. I could go on and on, but what's the point? I'm not complaining. I have and will always put my little man first-no wonder why I am a single mom.