"How Do You Do, Mr. Chinny, Chin, Chin?"

(At his "Cowboy Christmas" performance Dec. '08)
Sam's little flawless face has taken on a new rugged appearance this week.

On his way down for "What-ya-Got Cassarole" and Home Evening by the fire, Sam pushed himself up on the banister from the top step. Rather than mounting his imaginary steed, he flung himself right over it, tried to hold on to the rails, but fell a mighty fer piece. His chin and jaw took the brunt of the fall, and the hard wood floor and walls got a good red splattering. I called Terry for reinforcement. She came over immediately and set to work scrubbing away the evidence. His little body started into shock, and didn't want to move from the floor. The rest of our vigilant posse set us up with pillows and blankets, some ibufrofen and a dark rag for his battered face. We stayed there until Star arrived, then headed out for the E.R.

Sam showed real bravery and curiosity as his jaw was x-rayed, and we waited for the results. But as I watched the tissue emerging from his wound, I was grateful for the stitches that awaited. He was too, until he realized that the numbing they'd told him about came by way of a needle. That really tested his mettle. The staff was excellent --I couldn't have prayed for better. And as Dr. Anderson sewed him up, Sam, now pain-free, grilled him with a variety of thoughtful questions. The deal was sealed with the promise of a vanilla frosty from Wendy's, and a date with "The Crocodile Hunter" movie for the next day's viewing. The adrenaline wore off for me as I returned home and realized what might have happened had he landed at a different angle.

As much effort and energy as that Cowpoke has taken to parent--I was quite tortured imagining life differently. I put him in my bed the next night (Star had flown to SC for a conference) and held his little hand --grateful to hear his sleepy breathing.