One of the realities of parenthood is the role of caretaker whenever injuries and maladies occur. Though this is not my forte and I usually defer to my wife, there are occasions when I am thrust into the fold and have to make the best of things.
On one such occasion, we were getting the children ready to leave for a bowling lesson. These were lessons provided by our local bowling alley that included weeks of lessons and a personalized ball, all for less than the retail cost of a single ball prior to personalization — an exceptional value. This particular lesson was to be their last, when they would be receiving their brand new bowling ball, and would be able to complete the lesson using said ball.
Since children tend to behave like children, and mine are no different, my children were not ready when it was time to leave and instead opted to engage in the panicked rush of last second tasks. During this rush, my daughter, who was seven at the time, slid her pants across the foyer threshold and got it stuck on a nail. Rather than taking her time to determine the cause of the snag, she forced her leg forward, snag be damned. Unfortunately for her, giving into her impatience proved reckless as she sliced her knee open on the foyer threshold nailhead.
Cue the blood-curdling scream of pain.
After we were able to calm her down and take a look, not only were her pants ruined, but she had quite a nasty cut on her knee. Naturally, an urgent care visit was in order, immediately causing my daughter to proclaim, "I don't want stitches," through melancholy tears.
"What would you prefer," I asked her placatingly, "a big, gnarly scar or stitches?"
"A big, gnarly scar," she proclaimed, as she sobbed and hugged me even tighter.
Who wouldn't want another scar?! As it turns out, they didn't bother with stitches at urgent care (preferring to use glue instead).
On the plus side, my daughter was a regular celebrity when we arrived late to bowling as all had been informed of her injury and wanted assurances that she was now on the mend. She may not have been able to use her new ball during the last lesson the way her brother was able to, but she was able to use it for subsequent visits.
Although she preferred the big, gnarly scar to stitches, she ended up with neither, which suited her just fine.
