It has been one of Those Days. Seriously.
I have been the unwitting (and frankly, unwilling) catalyst for an annoying, bothersome, confusing, distracting, exasperating... (oh, I'll stop with "e" -- but I could go on with adjectives up to "z" on this one) real-life version of that slumber party favorite,
Here's what happened... straight from the mare's mouth.
4:50 pm, yesterday: I'm doing my prep work for my pre-school choir rehearsal, scheduled for 6:15 pm. My usual Wednesday afternoon activity.
5:15 pm: Hear a huge crash, followed by a beat of silence -- then loud cries and wails. Something was amiss.
5:16 pm: Find Will having taken a tumble on the hardwood floor, meeting the pine chin and mouth first. Tears, torment. And blood.
5:17 pm: Think. Wipe blood. Think. Inspect Will. Think. Not sure where blood is coming from. Think. Notice lip is a bit puffy.
5:19 pm: Call one of my choir moms to tell her what had happened -- Will took a fall, not sure if he cut himself. Want to watch him as he hit his head and I always err way on the side of caution when this happens because of his neurological issues. Can she handle choir rehearsal? No problem, I'm told.
5:25 pm: Determine that Will has just popped out one of his front baby teeth in the fall -- ergo all the blood. Whew.
5:35 pm: Back to playing happily and singing the 45302th rendition of Itsy Bitsy Spider. All is well. Standard kid stuff for once. Almost nice.
5:15 am today: Check my e-mails. Have one from the wonderful lady who coordinates a daily e-mail prayer list for our church. She had heard at adult choir practice that Will had a serious head gash from a fall and was in the emergency room, and wanted to confirm this with me before putting this info on the prayer list.
How on earth did we go from a tumble and a fat lip to being in the emergency room... good grief. Thank goodness this good lady knows me well enough to have asked me for details first before putting something on the prayer list.
4:30 pm today: Call from my dad. Checking on Easter dinner details -- I'm hosting. And oh, by the way -- half the church has been calling my mother with questions and "details" about Will's injury.
Double good grief.
To make matters worse, my mother never bothered to actually call ME to find out what was going on. She just sat and stewed all day, commenting to my dad that she didn't want to call because she "didn't want to be intrusive."
Good grief ad infinitum.
I explained to my very understanding daddy that if there had been a problem, I would have called them immediately. No call, no problem and why in the heck didn't ANYONE bother to pick up the phone to ask me what the heck was going on instead of simply passing alone erroneous information and why did my mother choose to listen to what other people had to say about what might or might not be going on in my life instead of just asking me herself and am I going to have to apologize to her for something that wasn't even remotely my fault and why do I always have to worry about other people's feelings when I'm in a family/Will crisis all the damn time.
Whew. Straight from the gut emotional regurgitation. Some feelings justified, some feelings reactionary. I was just trying to spit out all the crap. It felt good to cry that out on the phone and it feels good to type it out now. It's out. And gone.
Daddy said he'd take care of everything and everyone -- bless him.
I complete appreciate the fact that people really do mean well -- but sometimes the need to speculate rises a bit above common sense.
I just feel like I've spent a day with the former Iraqi Minster of Information, old Baghdad Bob himself.
And how was your day?