Things are never dull around here, but if you know me (or have been reading my blog for even a little while), you probably already know that….
Today we took a LONG road trip to visit some old friends in Arkansas. We managed to make it off at 5:00 AM without forgetting anything (or even anyone)- and only one kid was crying (Mercy cheered up when we gave her some fruit-loops and promptly went back to sleep). We made it up there in around 4 1/2- 5 hours, visited then had lunch, then visited more and headed home around 4:30 PM. We stopped and got sandwich stuff for supper in West Memphis, then settled in for the rest of the trip. It looked like we would be back home before 9:00- however, it was not to be.
By the time we got to Southaven some of the younger children were growing a bit restless, and because we don’t have a Target in our area, Momma suggested we stop and go in the Target in Southaven and let everyone stretch their legs (now, Ben does not understand why women would want to go in a store where they don’t intend to buy anything, just to look around. There is a reason, but I don’t know what it’s called). We stayed in Target for about 10 or 15 minutes then headed back for the van. Great. Still all lined up to be home by 9:00. Then it happened.
Us kids were going out to the van a few minutes ahead of Momma and Dad to get everyone loaded up and everything. Hannah and I did the “1, 2, weeeeeee” thing with Mercy on the way to the van (each holding one of her hands, swing her off her feet at the ‘weeeee’ part) until Hannah ran ahead to get in her seat. Mercy decided she wasn’t done playing the game, so she just dropped her feet out from under her while I was holding ONE of her hands. The screams ensued. I looked it over and waited for Momma to come. Momma looked it over and Daddy looked it over, and we found there to be nothing noticeably wrong with it- but she screamed and cried and cried and screamed and said “Mo-Mo arm HURT”, and Mercy never screams and cries unless something is actually wrong.
Dad tried to call Neena- no answer. Mercy screamed. We discussed what to do. Mercy screamed. We tried offering her candy. Her screaming at that point was the deciding factor: we put her in the carseat and drove her over to the urgent care clinic to be looked at. We tried Neena again, then reluctantly decided we needed to have her checked (which would cost at least $150), so Momma filled out the papers. After a few minutes she wasn’t constantly screaming, only when you tried to mess with her arm. The receptionist gave her a sucker and she relaxed in my lap…
We only took one picture before we found out that taking photo’s in the urgent care clinic waiting room is no usual proceedure, and the receptionist as a rule frowns on it.
By this time, we were really wondering if we had made a mistake bringing her there. However, we really really didn’t want to risk setting her howling again, so we began coming up with various way to try and get her to reach witht the hurt arm. Since she was holding her sucker in the good hand, all we had to do was find something that she would want enough to reach for. “Mercy, want you bottle?” we held it up. “Want Momma to take you?” “Want this, want that, want this?…..” she wouldn’t reach. Finally, a plan formed in my head. I remember how Mercy is obsessed with equality. If you tickle one foot, you have to tickle the other, it you roll one pant leg, you have to roll up the other, if you kiss one hand, you have to kiss the other…… I took her good hand and pretended to nibble it. Mercy hesitated, then held up the bad arm “oth’ one!”. The decision was made. Mercy probably just pulled her arm the wrong way: it hurt for awhile, then wore off. Oh great! we thought we would have to pay the bill anyway, even though she obviously wasn’t hurt and hadn’t even seen the doctor. Thankfully, it was 9 minutes from closing time and I guess the receptionist was ready to go home, because she said she would just shred the papers Momma had filled out. Whew.
We didn’t make it home by nine, but on the bright side it was the nicest urgent care clinic I’ve ever seen.
BTW, Annie’s recent phrase is “for future reference”- as in, “for future reference, when are we gonna get home?”
***We got Ben b c. Hannah now has her ssn and all we’re waiting for is Ben’s. More later.