An Accident Waiting To Happen

Yesterday, I was in a foul mood. I was letting those dishrags in the sink get to me. I've been waking up at 3:30 AM every morning, mostly I think because my mind can't sleep. I have a lot to do, and when I wake up early I am always productive.  I went through the day letting everything anyone say irk me, and by the end of the day I was exhausted. I hit the gym, and I did two miles on the treadmill and laughed probably for the first time that day while running and watching, "Juno."

When I came home, I wanted to work on my synopsis, on fixing typos and editing another work, and I wanted to get another few hundred words into my work in progress, Little Birdhouses. But more than that, I wanted to curl up in bed and go to sleep by 8:30.  You know what they say about the best laid plans.

I consciously ignored the kids while I worked through my manuscript for about an hour. Hubby put the kids in the bath one at a time. We had a cold front come through, so our gas fireplace was on. And Number Two comes in the room, prancing around butt naked and bends over, sticking his butt right on the hot glass (I'll remove this post before he's a teenager and it embarrasses him too much).

At first, I didn't think he had hurt himself. He cried immediately, but not a heavy cry, more a shock of a cry. And then he started screaming, and he wouldn't stop for about forty-five minutes. Burns hurt. Well, we debated, is this a first degree burn or a second degree burn? We cooled it down, put him in a cool bath, and put aloe on it, but still he couldn't sit on it. He said it hurt so badly, and the burn was angry, red and swollen. Hubby went to pick up Number One from gymnastics (where he basically lives), and I stayed home with the little two. I finally got Number Two settled and asleep on the couch, about forty-five minutes after the incident, when Number One burst into the room and woke him up. Hubby put silver gel on the burn, the pharmacist's recommendation, which elicited a whole new outbreak of cries. He requested, "You Are My Sunshine," and then promptly cried himself to sleep.

Poor Number Two. .He's always getting hurt. First the broken wrist, then the punctured head, and now this.

I felt like the day was leading up to that point--just a day where you know something is off. Do you ever have that feeling?

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