A baby shower and a head wound

I've left home.  To a baby shower that should be 45 min away.  Thanks to Saturday traffic and road construction, it's over an hour and a half drive.  

And I still need to stop by Babies R Us to get the last piece of the gift.  Of which they are sold out.  

Of course.  

Thankfully my sister met me there so we drag around the store for entirely too long picking out a few extra things and improvising for what is missing.  Her gifts were supposed to go in the diaper bag she registered for (which was sold out), so we found a basket instead.  It worked I guess.  Would've been cuter in the bag since it was a bunch of diaper bag essentials, but whatever.  

Where was I?

Oh yah.  

Getting ready to leave the store and get to the baby shower (thankfully it was an open house so being late was ok!).  

The phone rings.

It's my dear husband.  Who proceeds with "I'm REALLY sorry to bother you, and you don't have to leave and come home since the neighbors are home.  But, um, Lincoln has a gash in his head."  

Me- "Oh.  How big is it?"

Him- "Um, pretty big.  About 3 inches.  Pretty deep."

Me- "Like worthy of stitches?"

Him - "The deepest one we've ever had.  I'm taking him in."

Me- "Ok.  I'm stopping by the shower then I'll head home."

Him - "Don't worry about rushing since the kids are taken care of.  I'll call you and keep you updated."

Lovely.  

The shower was fun-I love seeing cute pregnant women.  Especially first timers.  So innocent.  So unsuspecting.  heh.

I ate a very large piece of chocolate cake.  It was yummy.  Passed around my baby and chatted with some cute cousins and aunts, then had to suck it up and head home.

I'm going to spare you people the pictures since some of them are kind of graphic.  If you dig that kind of thing or are just morbidly curious, you can see them on Aaron's blog HERE.  

I arrived home to him running around the yard like nothing ever happened.  Except he has a band aid on his head and is thrilled that it has Spiderman on it.  Good times.  

Currently, he sits here shooting me with a sponge curler that he is using for a gun.  With cookie crumbs on his face.  Irritated that I won't let him take a shower.  Completely oblivious to the stress he caused his father today.  What does it say about me and my life that it just seemed like a routine day?  

Probably a good thing considering the number of injuries I will likely witness in the next few years with the number of boys in my house.....