Ouch!

Life in Baltimore has certainly benefited from having Rob home.  When we made the decision to be hungry together as versus solvent apart, we knew we would be both adding and removing problems from our hectic lives, but Rob's travel regimen had truly become untenable.  I remember well his first week at home.  After nearly eight months straight of being a single weekday parent, I was thrilled to have some backup.  One fall morning in early September, in Rob's very first week of unemployment, I remember actually enjoying the morning get-ready-for-the day routine.  I was in the shower, by myself, thinking about my day and not where my four-year-old might be and what he might be doing.  It was blissful--hot water, no anxiety, a second pair of hands downstairs making the kid's lunch.  Unfortunately, my peaceful two-parent morning came to an abrupt end when Romi ventured upstairs and found me wrapped in a towel.  He was clearly on a mission, his face earnest, his movements deliberate,  I soon found out why.  The conversation started like this:

"Ima, Abba OK."  (This was said with emphasis on each word.)  Before I had time to respond, the little guy continued, "Abba need you,"  OK, my thought processes were humming but not panicking until we got to the next part.  Romi calmly added, "Big knife, lot of blood."

He may be a man of few words, but his message was delivered loud and clear.

I threw on a robe and as the two of us ventured downstairs, Romi lovingly and thoughtfully reassured his injured father, "Abba, us coming!" In the kitchen I found Rob sitting on the floor, a towel on his foot, but no blood in sight.  Rob didn't appear to be in much pain and cheerfully explained that as he was slicing cucumbers for Romster's lunch, he knocked the chef's knife off the counter.  This wouldn't have been a big deal but Rob thought it was a good idea to cut cukes in bare feet and somehow the blade managed to land sharp-side down.  Consequently, he had a pretty good gash across the top of his foot.

Rob reported that his foot popped like a balloon and had a pretty impressive pool of blood underneath his toes. When he asked Romi for a paper towel to clean it up, our wonderful hamster offered to do it for him. So the four-year old cleaned up the blood before calmly coming to get me to help. 

Rob got four stitches on his foot and a pretty good scar, Romi got ice cream for being such a helpful trooper, and I got to take care of two people instead of just one.  Welcome home.