Those phone calls you don't want

One morning after dropping the kids off to school and showering, I got a phone call from the school nurse.  She said Dash fell on the playground and cut himself.  It was bad enough that he was going to need stitches.  Luckily I had actually dressed in clothes instead of jammies (like I would normally do on a day when I am 8 months pregnant and no plans to go anywhere).  I immediately went to pick him up not even knowing where the cut was on his body.  I called Shad on my way and asked where he wanted me to take Dash to be seen.  I was crossing my fingers he was going to say "bring him here". Which he did. Shad and two of the assistants at the practice spent their lunch break stitching up this boy's forehead.  After a very brave half hour and about 16 stitches, Dash and I went to get some ice cream.  He now has a scar that looks a lot like Harry Potter's.

I am so grateful for a husband that has the knowledge and training to do such things.  It saves me the headache (no pun intended) of figuring that stuff out.