Oh My...Testosterone Abounds!

Oh Please, the testosterone is taking over!

Marching band is barely over and the boy is makin' me nutty already.

I've decided that when marching season ends, it's like the after christmas let down and you have to figure out what to do.

There's no more running like mad here, there and everywhere.

He's figured out what to do, he's drivin' me to the nut house.

He's been practicing for Winterguard and yesterday he was out twirling one of many items he currently uses...either a broom, a flagpole, a mop, an old crutch, a walking stick...I'm on the phone, he comes in and says, "Mom, I'm bleeding, you need to take me to the hospital."

Me: You need me to do what, you're kidding, what happened? What were you twirling this time?

Testosterone Boy: I don't know

Prissy 3 Year Old Who Knows Everything: He was twirling the flagpole and it ripped his finger off mommy

Me: Getting sick watching the blood drip from his finger, down his arm and off his elbow into the sink...I need to see it but let's wash it off first so I can actually see more than blood.

Testosterone Boy: Screams when he puts his finger under water

Me: Ooops, I didn't mean to put on the hot water...sorry

Testosterone Boy: You tryin' to kill me or what?

Me: You tryin' to make me crazier than I am with all this blood or what?

We look at each other and roll our eyes.

I looked at it.

Me: Yeah, it looks bad and you have a 6:00 call time tonight for band...lovely, just lovely...lots of sarcasm here.

We get ourselves together and of course prissy has to wear her flipflops on the wrong feet but we all get into the truck and away we go.

I call the testosterone loaded hubby on the way...to a man, nothing is ever "that" bad...bwaaahhhaaaaa

Me: I'm taking the testosterone boy to the er, he's tried to cut his finger off twirling something

Hubby: Grunts...how bad is it?

Me: I don't know, bad enough

Hubby: Bleeding?

Me: Not so much now

Hubby: They prolly won't do that much anyway, especially if it's not bleeding all over the place

At this point, we are passing by the er at the hospital and Testosterone Boy and I just wave and keep going. Well, we drove by it, does that count?

Stopped at the store, got some cut dressing stuff to use, the liquid skin doesn't work for us on fingertips...had to buy prissy some dora band aids too.

Got him bandaged, off to the game he went.

Fast forward to this morning~

I stumble into the kitchen, barely and I mean barely awake. I've got one eye open, cotton mouth, reaching for a cup to get something to drink and here he is with that finger proudly showing me how the blood has soaked through.

Ok, I used to be fine with blood until Meredith had a spinal tap and now I just can't handle it.

So, I'm about to pass out, gagging, grabbing my throat, running for the sink, coughing and he's laughing...too much testosterone in the mornings too.

I gather myself and unwrap it...yes, there's a problem...duh.

I go and get the testosterone loaded hubby to take a look and the first thing he says is, "Yep, he should have had stitches on that bad boy."

Me: Well good god, aren't you the same person that said they wouldn't do much?

Testosterone Loaded Hubby: Well, I don't know why you called me...I'm not a doctor.

Me: Think I should take him to the er now?

Testosterone Loaded Hubby: Yeah, and this time you should think about stopping!

Soooooo....by 7am this morning, I wanted a drink...Margarita on the rocks...with salt!

posted by Angie @ 10/29/2004 02:48:19 PM