|Mmmm, Busha's chicken dumpling soup.|
On Tuesday night I took this guy to Kohl's with me after dinner. I had a bill that needed to be paid and he was in need of a few new jammies. He's at the age now that he likes to pick out his own stuff, choosing a pair with dump trucks and dozers, one with footballs, new choo choos, and a green flannel Christmas pair with penguins. I convinced him to swap those out for some Halloween jams.
I was a little...ummm..gassy after dinner and I tend to forget that he is just 3 feet tall, trailing behind me right in the line of fire.
When the scent hit my nose I scrunched it up and thought...ooohh, I hope no one notices that.
That was about the time Keaton dramatically wrapped himself in the flannel Dora pajamas, twisting the arm around his nose and exclaimed "EWWWWW, POOP!"
Last night after dinner this guy was climbing on the chair and up onto the table to try to blow the candle out. I heard Collin scold both boys for climbing and to "get down."
Almost as soon as the words came out of his mouth, from the kitchen I heard a crash and instant wailing. You know the kind, the cry that is uncontrollable, the cry that signifies pain.
I ran into him and scooped him up, he held his head and asked for ice. And then for the next hour we sat on the couch, snuggling, holding ice to his head. There is nothing normal about Keaton sitting still for an hour. There is nothing normal about him asking to go to bed. And though both of the boys wake up in the middle of the night, it's not normal for him to wake up whimpering.
By 11:30 he had woken up 3 times. I called the nurse and she said to give him some Tylenol or ib profin. This morning he seemed completely normal so I'm hoping the pain was just a headache and nothing more serious.