Lion and Magic Boy

Eric is a climber. It’s kind of amazing, actually, considering that a year ago he was scooting around the house on his butt and could barely stand. And now he piles pillows up and jumps on them, face first and with gleeful abandon. Or grabs the big pile and rolls on the floor with them, ending up at the bottom of a heap of pillows.

And from time to time he misjudges things, falls off the couch maybe, or bumps his head on the floor or on a table leg. We say, “head bump!” and he shakes it off. No big deal. This is one tough little boy despite all his frailties.

Last night he was building a bridge of pillows across the gap between the couch and the coffee table, the same table where he often perches to consume a snack, and he made a construction error. The pillows fell and Eric became the bridge, suspended across the gap using his lower lip as a pivot point.

I immediately scooped him up and cradled him, calming him quickly. Nathaniel, who usually runs the other way when someone is hurt, grabbed the homeopathic remedy that works wonders for bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, Serena had begun screaming, looking at Eric with horror.

It was then I noticed the blood.

On Eric’s face, pooling in his mouth, all over his shirt front, the sleeves, his hands, on me. It hadn’t been there just a moment before. Huh. I’ve never seen so much blood come out of one child before.

He wasn’t crying at this point and seemed to be enjoying being covered with this red stuff. And we’re talking covered.

So, today, we have one small cut below his lower lip and zero mentions of it. One day he’ll learn to milk this stuff. It totally would have been good for special treatment, but no, we were back wrestling with pillows and large stuffed bears today.