This morning several of the kids were down on the trampoline. The house was peaceful, but the sound of screaming drifted across the hills.
I wondered aloud whether they were happy screams and Deanna voiced her opinion: Assume they’re happy until you see the blood.
Actually, she’s right. That pretty well sums up how I operate, and it has worked out well for us so far in spite of the accident-prone gene carried by their father.
In 16 years of child-rearing, we’ve never had one accident-related visit to the ER. The Superman incident only resulted in a walk-in visit to the doctor’s office, for which we paid $300 for “outpatient surgery” because he applied a splint to her arm.
Deanna and I did go to the ER long ago for carbon monoxide poisoning when the furnace flue in our old house backed up, and we visited the ER again when a congenital issue acted up in one of the girls, but neither of those were injuries caused by accidents. Well, the flue didn’t exactly collapse on purpose, but you know what I mean…
All in all, I think that’s a good record. But I won’t get smug about it – I know that pride goes before a fall, and as soon as I check that “I’m a good parent” box we’ll have 6 visits in a month.
But what about your family? How well does the ER team know your kids? Are you brave enough to tell?