After a wonderful family outing to Kita, our favorite local sushi restaurant, we all trampled into the house. The oldest two boys were sent up to their room to change into their pajamas while I put the baby to bed and my husband took care of the dog.
Not even ten seconds after entering their room, Stephen let out an ear-piercing scream and all I heard from Andrew is, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it!" I swept poor Caden up off the changing table and into my arms, and ran as fast I could, with Chip not too far behind me. Entering the room, I skidded to a halt, quickly assessing the situation: blood pouring out of Stephen's mouth, down his beautiful plaid shirt, and onto the cream carpet. His brother standing there bug-eyed with fear (I don't think he's ever seen that much blood in real life). Blankets and throw pillows on the floor (not sure how that happened in less than ten seconds).
And then, everything came back into focus and the yelling began (I am not a perfect work). In the midst of the chaos, we learned that Andrew and Stephen were playing ninjas or some must-involve-bodily-contact boy game, when Andrew accidentally kicked Stephen in the mouth. Hence the wild-banshee screaming and blood. Lifting a quick prayer to Jesus for my baby's pearly whites, I cleaned him up, rinsed him out, and discovered a tiny gash on his tongue (salt water, store-brand mouthwash, and prayer work wonders). I haven't been that relieved in a long time...
Lessons learned by all:
Andrew: You really should pay attention to the disclaimer, "Do not try this at home"
Stephen: ALWAYS protect the face!
Mom and Dad: It usually looks worse than it really is.