The Princeling was engaging in his favorite activity, swinging a gate back and forth. I bent down to pull up his pants, which were falling down, and he swung the gate, hard, into my head. Stunned for a second, I reached up to touch the tender spot where the gate had made contact, and my fingers came away covered in blood. I stuffed the Princeling into his stroller, called his daycare babysitter, and ran him to her. He was happy enough to be there. I then walked myself to the nearby emergency room, where, 2 1/2 hour later, I walked out with a tetnus shot in my left arm and two staples in my scalp:
It's exactly as painful as it looks.I picked up the Princeling on my way home. Despite what my father said on the phone about my son being wholly unaware of what he had done to me, I considered pressing assault charges.
My mom: "For what, elder abuse?"
Hardee har har.
When we got home I cut off my hospital wrist band and taped it to the Princeling's baby book with a little description of what happened. This way I can use this as guilt-trip fodder for the rest of his natural life.
