Saturday afternoon we loaded up the family for a trip out for lunch and to Target for laundry detergent and hot dogs. We all enjoyed a lunch of tacos and bean and cheese burritos at Rosa's before venturing back out into the frigid Central Texas winter weather (forty degrees). Charlie declared that he wanted to walk to Target, which was a half-mile away, but it was cold and we were buying something heavy, so we compromised and parked really far away instead of walking the whole distance.
The kids happily held onto the sides of the cart and bobbed along as we made our way through the store, picking up all of the odds and ends on our list. Hot dogs, thumb tacks, goodie bags, ribbon, flour, wipes! One by one, into the cart. Everyone was happy. We were going to have plenty of time to get home and wrap the gift we were buying for our friend, whose birthday party we would attend later that afternoon.
The kids were bubbling over with excitement at the register, bouncing in place, climbing around each other and the cart, grappling over the plastic sticks that you use to separate your toilet paper and bananas from the next customer's DVDs and half and half. So when Wes finally settled down underneath the shopping cart, on the place where you would put a large bag of dog food, or the big box of diapers, I was relieved. One fewer kid bouncing around me like a crazed electron! Hooray!
Ryan and I made a big stupid deal about "looking" for Wes before we left the store. "Where's Wes?!" we asked each other, in mock confusion, "Did he go to the potty? Is he at the water fountain? I don't see him! Where is he?" Hysterical giggles came from under the cart. "I'll sure miss Wes! He was such a nice boy!" Giggle, giggle, giggle. Finally, with James in the baby seat, cart fully loaded, and Charlie bouncing along beside, we made our way out of the store and started down the aisle toward our car, which was, as you remember, parked Very Far Away because Charlie is trying to incorporate more cardiovascular activity into his daily routine or something.
About halfway down the aisle Wes began screaming. SCREAMING screaming. Charlie shrieked "HE RAN OVER HIS HAND WITH THE CART!" And sure enough, when I peeled him off the parking lot, his left hand was covered in blood (and there was a situation with the nail on his middle finger that is too disgusting to detail here).
He cried. OH did he cry. He buried his head in my chest and cried and held his hand out at an awkward angle, shaking it from the terrible pain. He couldn't even bear to hold Smelly with that hand. We hobbled the rest of the way to the car and settled Wes in the passenger seat to investigate. He could not calm down, his finger was dirty and bleeding and crushed.
Ryan got everyone settled in the car while I frantically ran back into Target for Something To Fix It--Toy Story Bandaids, gauze, children's Motrin, a bag full of ice, and M&Ms. I planned to use the M&Ms to distract him while I dabbed the blood off his tiny little fingers and wrapped his whole body in Woody Bandaids.
Ryan was still trying to console him when I got back outside. It was good I'd gotten the big bag of M&Ms; we all needed them, especially Charlie who went absolutely pale when he finally got a good look at the injury. Even after administering candy and Motrin, it took two of us to get his middle and ring fingers wrapped in gauze and taped together with Bandaids. I was on the phone with Urgent Care as we pulled out onto the main road. They could get him in as soon as we could get there.
Not wanting to further the chaos, Ryan took Wes to the clinic while Charlie, James, and I went to the previously scheduled birthday party. Charlie disappeared into the house as soon as we arrived, but ran through the kitchen multiple times to ask if I'd heard from Wes. Ryan called right after they did the x-rays. It wasn't broken, so they were going to clean it out really well and send him home with some antibiotic ointment and a splint to keep him from catching it on things.
Before we left the party, Charlie spent ten minutes crafting the Perfect Goodie Bag for Wes from the candy table, making sure he got AT LEAST five packs of Smarties, Wes's favorite. He proudly carried it to Wes when we got home and found him in the playroom, sucking his thumb with his splinted middle finger in the air. Wes was happy to see us and still a little tender about his finger. We made sad faces together for a picture.
He was feeling much better today, but took a three hour nap this afternoon. We all took a three hour nap this afternoon. I'm going to need to toughen up before the two-wheeler years, the organized sports years, and, God-forbid, the skateboard years. But he won't be such a snuggly little guy then, right?