Ethan has a pocket knife (can anyone guess where this post is going yet?) He has had it for several years, and has always used it very carefully. He likes to spend time on the front porch sharpening sticks. He asked this afternoon if he could sharpen a stick. Shortly, the kitchen door flies open and Ethan screams "MOM!" I look over, see blood and (fairly) calmly say "BATHROOM!" Fortunately Ron was home too, so between the two of us, we got him into the bathroom and grabbed paper towels and kept his hand above his heart for a while. When Ron finally looked at it, we decided a trip to the ER was in order.
Orders from the doctor are to keep it dry for 24 hours, keep it elevated...
sit in a recliner with a remote and watch TV all day. THAT part makes him smile :-)
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