It was a beautiful evening … the water was warm …
Siblings were playing together.
Mothers were cooking dinner.
Fathers were supervising children.
All was right with the world in the woods.
They climbed every mountain.
They forded every stream.
The would have followed every rainbow (had there been one) — to find their dreams.
There was no sound of music, but laughter and giggles were plentiful.
Who knew disaster was lurking on the riverbank.
But it was and it did and we ended up here.
You see … the thing about rivers and rocks is that they play well with little boys.
And little boys play well with others, but what they really, really love …
is throwing rocks in the river.
Four-year-olds aren’t very accurate when throwing rocks.
Now she can say her brother had her in stitches on vacation!
It was nothing major — just a small, gaping little gash — but it required three stitches.
She was brave. And she’s fine. She even comforted her little brother who was very concerned and sorry and sad and gave her a huge hug when we returned to the woods.
This is the view from the hospital parking lot.
It felt like a walk in the clouds.
It also felt refreshing to be in — and out — of an emergency room in under an hour. I’m still in shock. In fact, the next time one of my children needs stitches, thinks they have appendicitis or needs a two-inch thorn extracted from a foot and all of the urgent care offices are closed because these things always happen at night,
I’m going to load them in the car and drive two hours to Brookville, Pa.
It would still be quicker than a trip to our local hospital. After a 40-minute drive you’re greeted by signs posted in the waiting room: Average patient wait: 4 1/2 hours.
I kid you not. Metropolitan area, you see.
Brookville Hospital? Not so much.
Of course, mothers are bound to love any place that eases their baby’s pain and makes everything better.
Speaking of making everything better …
Ice cream did the trick for the victim.
And her attacker.