I’m Hurt.

Thursday was a little less typical than most. Loran was working from home to avoid spreading the cold that Lily has been gracious enough to share with all of us. Some of Ella’s special ed team were coming to visit shortly after lunch and Ella was on day two of mornings at school. We’re slowly getting into the swing of the school routine, and I’m trying to incorporate some new things into our days. Mostly into my routines.

After lunch, the girls had gone outside to play while I cleaned up before the meeting. The girls are drawn to these candle holders we have in the gardens, which are basically metal sticks that hold a small glass votive holder. They really like the sticks. It seems that children are born with the knowledge of how to sword fight, regardless of what you do or don’t expose them to. After breaking up a few sword fighting sessions, the girls were playing “nicely” and I was sweeping. This is where it stops being mundane.

Ella walks in the house and very calmly and sweetly comes up to me to tell me, “I’m hurt.” Sure enough, both of her hands are covered in/dripping blood. And there’s a little trail of blood through the kitchen and on the screen door. So I very calmly escort her to the kitchen and grab paper towels and start the sink running. There was blood all over, I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I had an idea of the general area so I was putting pressure on her “wounds” until I could further assess the situation and see if she was missing a finger, needing stitches…when Lily walks in.

Also, totally calm, also with bloodied hands. Ahhhh!? I wasn’t sure if this was Lily’s blood or Ella’s blood on Lily’s hands. Where were they bleeding from?! I grabbed my phone and called Loran (who was upstairs), he was on a conference call, but came downstairs. When he saw the small triage unit that I’d set up in our kitchen, he threw his phone down (on speaker, and mute) and started attending to casualties while the meeting carried on, unaware of the scene unfolding – ah, technology.

Once everyone was wiped down, rinsed off and assessed, it turns out that Lily had two small cuts on her hand and Ella had one small, but deeper cut on her finger. That’s it. Neither girl cried and both only needed the smallest bandages (Nexcare) we had. And Lily, immediately started gnawing hers off. Apparently she needs one of those cones that post surgery dogs have to wear. Ella’s injury, on the other hand (no pun intended), rendered her finger hand entire arm useless. One cut on her middle finger, bandaged with care, and she walked around for the better part of the hour with her arm sticking out perpendicular to her body, playing with her toys one-handed.

I quickly cleaned up the blood-letting before our guests arrived. You know, those teachers who spend extra time and attention on the more vulnerable of our youth. Those mandated reporters. The ones who would have a hard time believing so much blood could come from such small cuts, by the way…where’s Lily? (napping) The blood was cleaned up, the boxes of bandages and gauze haphazardly strewn all over and the bloodied paper towels were picked up. I went out to investigate to see if I could find the weapon of mass destruction. Sure enough, a candle holder. Looks as though one of the girls (Lily – she’s got quite the arm) threw it against some landscaping bricks and broke it. Then I’m sure the sparkly, green glass was too enticing for small little girls who are infatuated with shiny, sparkly, jeweled things to not touch this newfound treasure. As for the lack of tears? We can only assume they realized that they weren’t supposed to be playing with these things, given the lecture they’d received not three minutes prior on NOT TOUCHING THOSE THINGS, so they possibly knew they had been naughty.

The teachers did ask why Ella was treating her arm so oddly. I explained the story and everyone laughed and I told Ella she could use her arm. And just like that, she did. All better. After the meeting, I went out with a box and packed away every candle holder, candle holder stick and anything remotely whimsical from our gardens. Someday, I’ll have pretty things. Someday…until then, neon plastic rules my world.

I didn’t take any photos of the incident, nor are the wounds even large enough to photo, but here’s a funny picture of one of the possible suspects. Pardon the fuzzy surveillance tape. She’s a quick mover.

Prime suspect #1: white female, approximately three feet tall, slender. Whispy brown hair, blue eyes. Pants sagging down, not speaking comprehendible English. Large snake tattoo on neck.