the SCREAMING. oh my the screaming.

Before we left for Branson we bought a new computer.  A very pretty, very cheap, very works-as-its-supposed-to computer.  Our previous, hoopty computer was a laptop but this time we bought a desktop.  Hubby and I both realized that we were crunched over with shoulders squeezed together as we worked on the computer and we decided we’d like our space.  And the space is glorious.

But to accomodate the space a desktop demands we had to move my wonderful pub table into the corner of the kitchen to act as a makeshift desk until we find a desk we want to purchase.  So I’ve been trolling Craigslist and hitting the garage sales.  Last week the kids and I didn’t hit the garage sales until late Saturday morning, and as you and I know, nothing good is left on the third day of a garage sale.  Well, I guess I did get two pretty floral prints for my bedroom and the kids each got a stuffed animal, but I didn’t find any desks.

Early this afternoon we headed out again.  I drove the three of us to Wichita, drove down Douglas, and found a great-looking garage sale sign across from Towne East Mall.  I figure if they’re going to put time into making their sign pretty and easy to read then they must have fabulous stuff to unload.  And boy was I right.  We pulled in front of a house with the driveway full of racks and racks of vintage clothes, tables neatly organized with treasures.  I got out, unbuckled Little Missy, then heard G breathing fast and saw his face in panic mode.  From where I stood I could tell something was caught in his car door but from my angle I couldn’t tell exactly what.  Using one arm to  pull Little Missy around the car with me I reached out to him as quickly as I could.  Right as I made it to him the screaming started.

Oh my the screaming.

He was holding his hand in the air, frightened and screaming while staring at his index finger.  He slammed that finger in the door good.  There was a big purple indention and welt inbetween his first and second knuckle.  The finger wasn’t crooked in any way so it probably wasn’t broken.  Emphasis on probably.  And no blood, thank goodness.  BUT THE SCREAMING.  I hugged him tightly to me and rubbed his back.  Then I pulled back to look at his face and said gently “Please, G, you can cry, but no more screaming.”  With tears pouring down his red face he nodded.  Then started screaming again.  So I rubbed the tears away and told him “You can cry, honey, but no screaming.”  He nodded again, caught his breath and calmed down.  Then he looked at his finger and started screaming again. 

Did I mention we were right across the street from the fabulous garage sale, the one with lots of people milling around?  Yeah, his screams could have been heard down the street and around the corner, but we were right across the street from the only house on the block with people home.  Not only home, but outside.  Sheesh.

So I held his shoulders and said “G, you must stop screaming or I will have to spank you.”  His screaming was an overreaction and I figured coming at him with an empty threat was better than shaking sense into him.  His little eyes opened wide and his mouth closed and the screaming finally ended for good.  Good thing, because I don’t know what I would have done if he’d tested me on my threat.

He stopped crying and felt okay enough to go home.  On the long ride home he’d be calm for a while then start crying when he was reminded of his finger.  When Hubby called to check in on his afternoon break G started the crying all over again.  The poor guy was really in pain.

We made it home and I gave him some children’s pain reliever.  He was resting on the couch when Little Missy and I went to the kitchen to get apple juice for all of us.  All the sudden she blurted out “Mom, I just love him so much!  And I don’t want him to be in pain.”