Stitch.

Oh, our sweet Goose.  

The other day, Jeff was getting Grace and Asa (the little boy I tend during the day) to preschool while I was getting my foot checked out.  He remembered me telling him that sometimes, they like to move slowly when it's time to go, so he decided he would make it into a game.  "Let's see who can get out to the car fastest!"  

Can you picture it?  Putting on your shoes as fast as you can-

 opening the screened in porch door-

 rounding the corner-

just have to make it through the chain-link-fence gate-

then it hits you, literally, on the right side of your face-

and your eyebrow gets a little gash in it that probably matches one of the "links"-

and your forehead gets a big goose egg-

and under your eye gets scratched-

and blood is oozing down your sweet face-

and your dad is really worried about you-

and your mom meets you at the pediatricians office, since it happens during office hours-

you sit very patiently while multiple people examine your eyebrow area-

 they think it's not a good candidate for glue, cosmetically speaking-

you need A stitch, maybe two-

they don't do that at the doctor's office (seriously????)-

you and your friend who has been keeping you company wonder about the day's preschool?-

you spend the rest of the morning in Urgent Care-

waiting to get A stitch-

 the doctor's do a great job-

you sit perfectly still, not even squirming one bit during the whole ordeal-

 you get to wear a band-aide on your eyebrow (because who doesn't love THAT look!)-

and you finally let your mom take a picture of you a day or two later, when you're feeling more confident-

 then you go home for lunch. 

That's about how it happened.  

Injury:  8:52 a.m.

Stitch:  12:30 p.m.

Home:  1:15 p.m.

Number of medical professionals seen:  6

Number of stitches: 1

Lesson learned:  Go to urgent care for stitches.

In other news:

Spring = Pretty.