My son, the drama king.
This afternoon we spent some real quality time [running errands] in one of our favorite places [Target], much to Jacob's delight [misery]. Whilst calmly perusing [clowning around] the toy [laundry detergent] aisle, I hear my dear son cry out [scream the girliest scream known to man] in pain. I immediately turned [after I loaded up my Tide--inside the basket, btw] to investigate the situation:
Me: 'Jacob, what happened?'
Jacob: [clutching his hand close to his chest] 'I ca-can't sh-show you, I-I'm losing too much bl-bloooooooood!'
Me: 'Okay, okay, calm down. Let me see. [holding back my laughter] Oh my goodness, Jacob! Are you OKAY?!'
Jacob: [peeking at his finger] 'Oh nooooooo! I'm probably going to lose the nail! Are you going to have to take the nail off!? It's bleeeeeeeeeding!'
Me: 'I know, I know it's bleeding. Profusely! I probably won't have to take the nail off...but I might need to remove the whole thing. [give it a minute, let it sink in] You don't mind having one less finger, do you?'
Jacob: 'Oh, Mom.' [eye roll]
Meghan: 'That was a good one, Mom. You really had this convincing look on your face. I liked that!'
[Smile]
I'm neurotic today because...
...I've spawned a child with more drama in his injured little finger than all the daytime television stars combined.
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