Josh’s weed eater has needed a new filter, so I headed to a small, local hardware store yesterday to purchase a new one for him. When we got there, I looked around for the particular filter we needed, but couldn’t find it, so I got in line at the little desk up front to ask for help.
I had both kids with me. I was holding Jillian (because she finds joy in running away from me with a big smile on her face) and Brody was standing right next to me as we waited. When it was finally my turn, I soon realized that it wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought to get this filter. Apparently, it had to be special ordered, so I began giving the man all the details he needed to place our order. At this point, I wasn’t watching Brody very closely. I knew he was still right beside be because I could see him out of the corner of my eye. What I couldn’t see though was that he was playing with a pocket-sized utility knife. At the front of the desk were several little bowls and containers of random things for sale. One, right within reach of him, was a bowl full of these knives. Super.
As I was giving the man details, Brody says, “Ouch, momma! This thing pinched me!” I immediately looked over to see what had pinched him and saw that the retractable blade of this knife (that I had no idea he had) was completely out. I initially thought he had just pinched his finger with the retractor piece. I quickly put the knife back and sternly told him not to touch those again. As I was talking to him, I realized his hand was beginning to cover in blood. Oh yes, the “pinch” was, in-fact, a cut on his finger from the knife.
Thankfully, I have a much more laid back attitude about things like this since having Jillian. I grabbed his finger and attempted to squeeze it to put pressure on it while still ordering the filter. Once I realized his hand and mine were covered in blood, I decided to ask for a paper towel. :) I kept talking to the guy while Brody dramatically told me that there was “bleed” everywhere!
We left the store and headed home so I could clean his cut and see how deep it really was. Up until this point, Brody had not cried, but then when we got in the car, the reality of the situation set in and this was the conversation that occurred…
Me: What’s wrong? (after hearing his whiney cry begin)
Brody: I’m still bleeding!!!
Me: Why are you crying because you are bleeding? Does it hurt or does it scare you?
Brody: It scares me!!
Me: What are you scared of?
Me: What do you think is going to happen to you?
Brody: I’m going to diiiieeee!!!!
And that pretty much sums-up this situation. It was that dramatic to Brody. I have no doubt this is just the beginning of cuts, gashes and blood for our little rough-and-tough boy. I hope he gets a stronger stomach before our next incident though! :)