This Just In . . .

Will nearly chopped off his finger and had to get stitches.
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So he bursts into the house the other night, hoisting his bandaged, pitiful finger proudly and begins telling us the whole story, animated, passionate & speed-talking.
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My first response: "Was it while you were at our house??" That might sound heartless, but please. All of Tommy's friends get hurt at our house doing some outrageous stunt that the mothers then recall in stupefaction for the rest of their lives. My self-esteem can't take many more injuries "on my watch."
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The accident happened on someone else's watch. He had gone fishing with his friend "Chris" and his family. I wanted to hear the whole story, so I told him to slow down, talk slowly, and heck, even act it out for me. 'Cause I'm way better with graphics.

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"I need props," he says, and he starts moving furniture. "Tommy," he calls, "Come over here and be 'Chris' for me." He props up my antique something lid on Tom's new piano bench and says, "See here, this is the fender of the boat. And it's sitting on the boat we are trying to move."

"OK, Chris, you're moving the boat now, just start easing her out a little."
"Easy now...."

"And it was jammed and wouldn't budge, so I got down there and all and started moving things around and all when suddenly it jolted and smashed down on my finger!!!"

"I just knew my finger was cut off and all. I told Chris to run, RUN, get help!!"

I don't remember anything after that, we got silly with the giddy relief of teasing fate and coming out on top. At some point I asked Will if he called his mama and if so, when? He said, "Aww, yeah, I sent her a text & picture from the hospital while the dr. was sewing it up."

Lovely, I'm sure.

Just wanted to let you all know Will's OK and, most important: It didn't happen while I was babysitting him.