Our first child to have stitches was, of course, Jameson. He was injured while playing with his sisters in Grandma Jones' living room. Jameson's little forehead met the corner of Grandma's brick fireplace. He was such a little trooper, despite being covered in blood (only 15 small drops made it onto Grandma's white carpet), rushed to urgent care, waiting for two hours to be seen by the doctor, waiting another thirty minutes for the topical pain killer to work (it didn't), then being held down by three people (his bawling mom included in that number), getting a shot right in the middle of his forehead to actually numb the spot, then getting two stitches. It looks much better today.
Juuva
11 years ago
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