Okay, because I am just not into not sharing.  And because a few of you voted for this one.  You get to hear the “HURT” story.

HURT. Another 4-letter word that makes the hearts of parents skip a beat for a minute.

Within moments of my daughter being unceremoniously dropped on my doorstep with LICE, I get a phone call from the middle school.  (I really love caller ID.  The school always shows up with some weird code so I never screen them.  Not that I would screen YOU or anything.  Honest.  Not you.) Somewhat distracted by obsessively picking through my daughter’s hair, this is what I heard:

“

blah blah Middle School nurse…blah blah…..hit his head..blah blah…huge goose-egg…blah blah accident on the bus.” Brain KICKS IN

That last one got my attention.

“What?  An accident?” I screech.  Images of buses on their side on the side of the highway are running through my mind.  He went on a field trip today.  “Please start over.  I missed something in there.”

“This is the nurse at the Middle School.  I have your son Brandon here with ice on his head.  Apparently he hit it rather hard on the bus on the way back from the field trip today.  He has a large goose-egg on it, but he is probably fine.  It was just an accident on the bus where the kids were goofing off.”

“Do I need to come get him?  Does he have a concussion?”

“He is probably fine.  School is almost out, but I do want you to watch him at home.”

Forget waiting.  I went up and got him at school.  I can say I definitely hovered over him all night.  I think if I asked him how he felt one more time, he was going to smack me or run away.

The next morning he said he had a bit of a headache and felt off but wanted to go to school.  He wasn’t there long before the nurse called again.

“I think you need to come get him.” That’s it.  Come get him.

As I am driving to pick him up I am also calling the doctor to tell him I am bringing him in to get checked for a concussion.  After a thorough exam the doctor declared that he did indeed have a mild concussion.

Ohhhh, the guilt for sending him to school.  For not taking him in the day it happened. For not hovering over him even more obsessively.

My husband of course is not a parent who overreacts.  He is calm.  He is the level one.  He is the one who when told that his son had a concussion for hitting his own head on the bus in order to duck someone else who was about to shove him back as they were involved in serious horseplay, looked our beloved child in the eyes and said, “You big dork!  Acting like a fool and giving yourself a concussion.” And then he proceeded to laugh.

Mom=hover and felt guilt

Dad=calling it like it is and calling the boy a dork

Brandon is fine now.  He was banned from sports for a week which caused him to miss his last basketball game.  And of course he couldn’t go to all of his weekend fun hang outs, but he is fine.

I don’t like those phone calls.  I don’t like when the nurses call from school.  It is never good.

So within 30 minutes I have LICE and HURT happen.  I was ready for bed right then.  But wait.  We still have BITE to cover.  And that one, well, that one is a much lighter story.  Stay tuned for that one!

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