Why do these things happen at 10:30 pm?

One Sunday night everyone went to bed 'cept Peyton and I. He was wired. So I watched TV and he toddled around the living room. He was walking around and behind the couch because he had thrown a ball behind it. On his second trip back he came around the side, tripped on the cell phone charger chord and landed forehead first onto our stone fireplace. It was the crying that first got my attention, second was the blood, and third was the gaping cut.

Matt's laying in bed. Here's how it went for him: Hears crying. Thinks Peyton fell down....again. Hears me in bathroom running water. Thinks Peyton hit his lip on something. Sees me walk into the bedroom holding Peyton and bloody washcloth. Thinks, crap. We have to go to ER.

Matt's dad came up to the house and sat/slept on the couch and we took him to Primary Children's. Why Primary's? We've been asked that more than once since. Because there certainly are closer ER's to us than that one. Answer: We like it. They are the best with kids. Matt used to work there. Since he needed stitches, they would likely have to sedate due to his age and we thought a children's hospital is where that should be done. So leave us alone.

We waited an hour and half in the waiting room. Peyton forgot why he was there and took to doing laps up and down the hallway at full speed. And thank you to the triage nurse, who made him the coolest kid in the waiting room. That is if it were 1983 and we were at Jazzercise.

The doctor said they could glue it instead of stitch. Which was great because it saved us being there another hour and half. Peyton was more than ready to go by the time we were released. I think he was asleep with his new best friend before we hit the asphalt. He made his new best friend on one of his laps around the hall. He made it all the way up the main entrance and schmoozed the security gal.

We got home at 3:00am.

The End.