Boomba got his first head injury.
We like to keep our front door open to let in light. We have a screen door so it's no problem. Lately Boomba has been obsessed with the door. Pushing and pulling it open and closed. He had been playing with it and left it half open.
A couple hours later he was running down the hallway and lost his balance. His forehead ran right into the door. Not the flat part. I wish since that probably wouldn't have hurt as bad. (Actually since I'm wishing, I might as well wish he never hit his head.) Instead he hit is head on, I guess, the edge. The part that the lock is in.
I saw him fall and it didn't look like that bad of a fall. But the smack it made and the piercing cry he let out led me to believe that it was far worse than it looked. Dim and I rushed to him and he instantly had a goose egg on his forehead. It kind of freaked me out how quick it showed up.
Boomba pretty much stopped crying as soon as we picked him up. I gave him a binky to calm him down and we put Blue's Clues on while I tried to ice his bump. He was pretty good about it. He seemed to humor me and let me keep it on him for almost a minute at a time before he pushed it away. We gave him some Tylenol and checked his pupils and made sure he still had his balance. He seemed to be fine.
We tried to call the doctor to see what we should do. We already knew what we were doing but we still have that insecurity as first time parents. But of course we were put on hold over and over again and never got to talk to anyone. Oh well. I Googled "bump on head" and Dr. Google told us to do everything we already had done.
I called my mom later that night and told her what happened. She told me to get pictures for posterity. Of course I already had.
Go ahead and ship that Worst Mother of the Year award to Mother Hoodwink.
Let me tell you a little story about a very curios and hungry little boy.
One day the boy's father came home for lunch and munched on some Oreos. The boy sat in awe hoping that his daddy would give him a quick bite of one. It never happened because the boy's father knew that if the boy's mother caught him giving the boy an Oreo cookie, she would kick his ass, organic or otherwise. The boy's father, always one to not put things away when finished with them, set the package of Oreos on the end table in the living room.
Later on, after the boy's father had gone back to work, the little boy remembered that this daddy had carelessly left the Oreos within the boy's reach. While his mother was paying more attention to the machine-that-blinds-him-with-an-apple-whenever-he-gets-up-close-to-it that sat on his mother's lap, he decided then to make his move.
He ever so quietly grabbed the cookies off the table, opened the box and took out the package of Oreos. He shoveled cookie after cookie in his mouth while making sure his mother wasn't looking.
With no time to spare, he kept the constant flow of cookie fast. Sometimes shoving a cookie in and going back for more before he even finished the last one.
The little boy quickly fell into a chocolaty bliss.
He relished in the cookie goodness until he almost passed out from the yumminess.
But he got lazy. He began to eat vigorously and loud. Loud enough for his mommy to hear chomping and slobbering. She looked up and caught him red handed.
