It took three people to give my son a single stitch in his chin.
When your phone lights up with a call, there’s nothing like the reverberation of “not again, come on” that bounces around inside your head as you realise it’s your child’s day care centre.
The last time I got that call I was certain it would be about the cold I’m unwilling to admit my 5 month old daughter has.
No, it was about my three year old. He’d fallen over and had a nasty cut on his chin that potentially needed a stitch. And because I’m one of ‘those’ mothers, I initially thought surely the staff were exaggerating, so I *actually* asked if I really had to go and collect him.
Well, don’t I feel guilty about that now.
I took the poor sausage to the GP and what followed was pretty harrowing for him and for me.
Between the doctor and myself, we exhausted our ammunition of bribes in the effort to just get him cto let her examine the wound. Stickers, bubbles, Chocolate, ice cream, all the sugary treat I could think of and even then he wailed and thrashed around. When she announced that he would absolutely need a stitch my heart sank a little. How on earth was I going to convince him to sit still enough to get a stitch in his chin?
So, I did what any self-respecting mother would do. I ignored the problem and told him nothing.