I had a scary moment yesterday when I picked Elliott up from daycare. One of his teachers informed me that I was going to have to sign the book. I looked at my watch to make sure I wasn't late picking him up, an effort to rule the book out as a form of parental reprimand. I was right on time. "Exactly what is it I will be signing" I asked curiously. The teacher told me they had parents sign the book to make sure they understood the details of their child's injury. At that moment, Elliott turned his head just right, or it's possible I gave him a more concentrated second look than usual, but there it was - a bright red circle below his left eye with a whitish bull’s-eye in the middle of it. Turns out the bull’s-eye was located where the corner of one of the playground pieces caught the side of his face when Elliott attempted to crawl around without looking. She ran over to him immediately afterward and asked him if he was OK. He said yes and went on his way. He didn't shed a tear, she said, and he never complained a bit about it. Look at the picture and judge for yourself, we've got one tough little cookie. Suddenly signing the book seemed like a privilege. In fact, I came close to asking if they could make a copy of it to put in Elliott’s I won that one section of his scrapbook.
It is ironic that this happened after Elliott returned from a doctor visit to have his month long sniffles and cough looked at. Nothing serious there. He got some medicine to help scare the sickness away quicker than his mom or I can do it. He did get a chance to step on the scales while he was there and it seems he has adopted his unborn brother's growth habits. Elliott weighed 25 pounds, 3 pounds more than his last visit, which is only slightly less than Ian's growth over the same period and he already has future NFL opponents demand he be tested for steroids. Oh can the food prices please head south with the gas.
I am sure the little bruise will be healed before he has a chance to show it off to grandma and grandpa tomorrow. They are going to keep him for the night and give Katie and me one last date night before the arrival of Ian and the departure of free time and relaxation. Grandma plans to use the time to offer Elliott a remedial course in Halloween pumpkin design. In her words, the pumpkin Elliott and I created was the "ugliest pumpkin she had ever seen." These words from the woman I often refer to as my favorite mother-in-law ever. I hate to admit it, but she has the full support of the other grandparents. My dad asked me how I could destroy the idea of Halloween for Elliott. I’m sure he’ll offer to foot the tuition bill for grandma’s course.
I think grandma will have a hard time convincing Elliott pumpkins are to be carved and not painted. He’ll assume the carving is just a little extra preparation for the painting process and he may be quite disappointed when the pumpkin retains its orange color throughout the project. I’m sure grandma will have a good and lasting explanation to offer him, one that will carry over to many Halloweens to come, another of those tiny seeds that grandparents plant that seem to grow forever. I know we’ll appreciate the opportunity to have some quiet before the storm. God bless grandparents.