Potato?

Picture me in front of the sink with potato in hand pondering the question "Can I still use the peeled potato if it has dropped into the garbage disposal?". Yep, my brain has completely melted. I won't even use a fork that has dropped into an empty and rinsed sink and I actually considered using the potato. For about a minute! That is a really long time if you think about the grossness of the question.

It all started Tuesday night. We went to "Ben's Zoo" to see the holiday lights. It was warm (relatively) and we took advantage of the open evening to go see the "Christmas Zoo". Anything with lights is a Christmas _______ right now. That goes back to Dave taking Ben out to see the finished Christmas lights on our house and Ben deciding that we now have a Christmas house. It is great to see him having fun with the trappings of the season. Anyway, back to the Zoo. It was beautiful! The kids loved it (until Kiera got cold and in protest to the feeling refused to wear mittens...I don't get it either) and Ben did a lot of hard walking and snow drift climbing. Great night but very tiring. We got home VERY late and in the process if taking Ben's boot off he bit the dust.

No crying is usually a good indicator of a painful fall so we thought we knew what we were dealing with when he didn't make a peep, until we picked him up and he had a very bloody head. Don't worry, it was only about a 1/3 inch cut but wow did it bleed. Funny side note-in our ER fear/crabby mode Dave and I actually argued about the size of the cut. I said 1/3 of an inch he said 1cm. For real. This argument (with my engineer hubby) lasted a minute with out us noticing that we were saying the same thing. For all of the falls Ben has taken we have only seen blood three times. Scalp cuts make a lot of blood. So a call to the doc and off we go the the ER for a staple in the head. To his credit Ben feel asleep before we left for the hospital, ice on and everything. I can say that he is a real trooper because he slept most of the time that we were there. He didn't love the pain killer soaked cotton ball they used to numb it but I'm sure if he know that it was that or a needle into the cut he would have agreed to the wet stingy cotton. He really didn't love the cut being washed while we held him down but he didn't even notice the staple. The doc er...resident was a bit intimidated by my screaming retching angel but took the nurses word that one would probably do it. We let go, all was IMMEDIATELY calm and he turned to them and said thank you. My goodness what a kid. They were so impressed they gave him three stickers. He put one on my shirt, one on his and one on Daves. Then said "we did it".

We made it home after 1am so we didn't get much sleep which, I believe led directly to the potato contemplation. Toss in a heavy dose of Tasmanian-two-year-old and I don't have a chance.