A Stitch In Time

...prevents undesirable scarring. (This perspective is straight from my husband. Thanks, Love!)


Yesterday, Rhyle became the first in our family to get stitches - 6 of them. Owen was swinging on the rope swing in the back yard. Rhyle was waiting his turn and trying to hit Owen with a ball. At some point, Owen picked up a broom and resumed swinging. As they played, Rhyle managed to get clipped by the broom under his right eye. Owen ran in to tell me that Rhyle was "hurt real bad." Owen was very quiet because he didn't want to interrupt our conversation with Rob (Calli's cousin), who had stopped for a brief visit on his way to Memphis. Rhyle later told me that he didn't come in because he didn't want everyone to see him crying with blood on his face.


He did really well until getting the shots of anesthetic. He said those shots and the beginning of each stitch were the worst. But, he skipped on his way out of the clinic and skipped his way into and out of Walgreen's to get bacitracin. The doctor and the nurse were nice, he said - the doctor helped him and the nurse had a nice voice.


What do you say? You want to say, "I hope that will be the last time," but you know that's unlikely in a house with three and a half boys.