This rather odd-angled shot is my poor little Hannah's scratched up leg. It looked so much worse in real life! Aside from the big, bloody scrape, there are little scratches and scrapes all around it and a big raised spot rubbed raw that is healing to look almost like a burn mark. She and I were both so sad! Sometimes I feel so sorry for my poor girlies when they're hurt that I really want to cry along with them, and I have to remind myself that I'm not supposed to cry about scratches anymore.
This one could have been a lot worse, though. We use these hard plastic tubs to organize and store the girls' toys, and Lamont calls them "evil tubs" because all the girls have had a tendency to like to dump the toys out of them, flip them over, and attempt aerobatic stunts off the tubs that inevitably result in tumbles and tears. Nothing more than a bruise, but as Hannah found out, it was only a matter of time until it got worse. I caught her jumping on the tub, and even as the words to stop her were forming on my tongue, the prediction of my quivering stomach came true as the plastic shattered and she crashed down to the floor. The jagged shards of hard plastic sticking out from the edges of the tub looked like glass.
I don't know if she had angel hands wrapped around her leg, but a nice collection of bloody but shallow scrapes is somehow all she took away from plunging her leg through the equivalent of a broken window! And while she cried her heart out and then took comfort in pretty princess bandaids, and finally submissively listened to a lecture she knew she fully deserved, I clung to the beautiful knowledge that we'd survived another heart-stopping moment with no serious injuries and all heart function fully restored.
Ugh. Evil tubs!! What heart-stoppping moments have you experienced with your children, and how bad or relieving were the injuries that resulted?