Okay. Sharon came over for tea, (I know, it was Monday, not tea-for-Tuesday) and reminded me that the toothpaste cure for burns was DEBS magic home remedy. HI DEBS! Sharon's magic home remedy was : to stop bleeding, fill wound with black pepper. No, it does not sting, and yes, it absolutely works. We tried it on Issa, that time when he ran through someone's old bonfire on the beach and cut his foot open on a broken bottle. (please don't leave glass bottles on the beach, idiots!) I carried him up to the house, and we later followed the trail of blood back down the hill to see where the injury had happened. Little boys who are running sure bleed a lot. Anyway, that healed up beautifully, with plenty of TLC. They always do, but it was pretty traumatic at the time.
Sharon also had the brilliant idea to tie Chasbo's hair together, that time when he gashed his head open doing a triple-flip-with-a-twist or something on a bike ramp. (We do have helmets...) He and the bike landed, uncertain of which of them were meant to be on top.
The hair tie kept the wound closed overnight, (these things ALWAYS happen on a Sunday evening or other public holiday) and in the morning when I took Chas to the paediatrician, Dr. Bratt, (yes, really!) the Doc said that we were geniuses. The wound had almost sealed itself very nicely, and he tied the hair back and said to keep it so for a few days. If it opened back up, bring the kid back in. Not bad, eh? Of course, Chas looked weird at school, (he got to make a grand late entrance, of course!) with part of his hair in a little ponytail, but he didn't mind. And the teachers all know that to stitch him up, we would have had to knock him out. Thank God, Chas is my only biological child who has never needed stitches. Thank God also, for the remarkable Dr. Bratt, who is past retirement age but doesn't flinch at injuries. (before he turned 2, Chas had swallowed coins, fallen from heights, drunk engine oil, dived into ponds and pools, stuck things into electrical sockets, [sometimes all on one day] and generally made his mother very nervous. I did a First Aid Course, to keep up with him, and watched him like a HAWK!)
Sharon and I sat and recollected Great Injuries of the Past, while Chas, Sam, Max and their cousin Michael ran around outside with sticks and skateboards and slingshots. After a while, we found they were being TOO QUIET! So we looked, and they were all spread out on the floor making paper dolls' clothes!
I have introduced you before to "Mr. Bishy", a paper doll which my Mum and Max made on a lazy weekend. Mr. Bishy now has a wife, (Mrs. Bishy!) and children. He has a cutlass, boots, hats, and his wife wears some VERY pretty dresses. The little fashion designers were sweating and dirty, and sticks and slingshots were strewn about among the paper, scissors and coloured pencils. They were terribly industrious, and I like the fact that at 9 years old, the biggest boys are still able to have fun like that without feeling that it isn't manly enough.
Then, they sped out again, leaving Bishy detritus all over the floor, and Chas managed to ride over himself with the Razor Bike. How does he do it? We settled him in the hammock with a cup of tea. He was fine. Still no stitches in Chas!
We should have a sign like in the oilfields: "days without stitches or concussion: 137"
Sharon also had the brilliant idea to tie Chasbo's hair together, that time when he gashed his head open doing a triple-flip-with-a-twist or something on a bike ramp. (We do have helmets...) He and the bike landed, uncertain of which of them were meant to be on top.
The hair tie kept the wound closed overnight, (these things ALWAYS happen on a Sunday evening or other public holiday) and in the morning when I took Chas to the paediatrician, Dr. Bratt, (yes, really!) the Doc said that we were geniuses. The wound had almost sealed itself very nicely, and he tied the hair back and said to keep it so for a few days. If it opened back up, bring the kid back in. Not bad, eh? Of course, Chas looked weird at school, (he got to make a grand late entrance, of course!) with part of his hair in a little ponytail, but he didn't mind. And the teachers all know that to stitch him up, we would have had to knock him out. Thank God, Chas is my only biological child who has never needed stitches. Thank God also, for the remarkable Dr. Bratt, who is past retirement age but doesn't flinch at injuries. (before he turned 2, Chas had swallowed coins, fallen from heights, drunk engine oil, dived into ponds and pools, stuck things into electrical sockets, [sometimes all on one day] and generally made his mother very nervous. I did a First Aid Course, to keep up with him, and watched him like a HAWK!)
Sharon and I sat and recollected Great Injuries of the Past, while Chas, Sam, Max and their cousin Michael ran around outside with sticks and skateboards and slingshots. After a while, we found they were being TOO QUIET! So we looked, and they were all spread out on the floor making paper dolls' clothes!
I have introduced you before to "Mr. Bishy", a paper doll which my Mum and Max made on a lazy weekend. Mr. Bishy now has a wife, (Mrs. Bishy!) and children. He has a cutlass, boots, hats, and his wife wears some VERY pretty dresses. The little fashion designers were sweating and dirty, and sticks and slingshots were strewn about among the paper, scissors and coloured pencils. They were terribly industrious, and I like the fact that at 9 years old, the biggest boys are still able to have fun like that without feeling that it isn't manly enough.
Then, they sped out again, leaving Bishy detritus all over the floor, and Chas managed to ride over himself with the Razor Bike. How does he do it? We settled him in the hammock with a cup of tea. He was fine. Still no stitches in Chas!
We should have a sign like in the oilfields: "days without stitches or concussion: 137"
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