This morning, I lost my slice of bread - spread facing downwards, of course - but, lo and behold - the table was just as clean! Mysteriously. So I thought it was going to be one of those days. Luck is on my side and all that.
After work (at home) I went into town, met up with my friend C, we left her son S (my godchild) in one corner of a pizza place to celebrate a classmate's birthday, then sat ourselves in the opposite end of the pizza place. We talked, enjoyed our pizza, enjoyed our conversation, enjoyed eyeing up the young but gorgeous waiter (who was obviously used to this because he wasn't in the least embarrassed...), and had just ordered our desserts -- when the waiter mentioned, casually, in passing, that one kid in the birthday over there had hurt himself, and they'd been trying to call his parents.
C: "Well, can't be me, my phone's right here, see? Hasn't been ringing."
gorgeous waiter: "no, probably not, they'll find them. His name's S by the way"
C: "That's mine!"
- And off we went. Around the corner, on a couch, we were met by this (his white shirt not lessening the first impression of shock): There was a doctor in the place - pure luck - and he taped him up as best he could while we waited for an ambulance.
Eventually the ambulance arrived, they put S on a stretcher and in the car, we went with him.
Then - straight into the emergency ward. Where we waited. And waited. Actually only about 45 minutes, but it felt longer...
Cute doctor stitched him up. 2 cuts - one got 4 stitches, the other needed 12. (Now I've seen subcutaneous fat, nerve fibres and a muscular attachment too. Not something I'd like to repeat..) During the whole ordeal, S said nothing, only winced a few times - mostly when he had his 6 shots of local anaesthetic - and although he was swetting like mad under the green cloth, needed to go to the bathroom and actually felt a lot of the stitching, he lay still. Like broccoli (as Julia Roberts would have said in Pretty Woman..). His mum patting his head under the cloth and me walking to and fro, frantically changing between nausea and curiosity, the nurse assisting and pretending we weren't in the way...
When we finally made it home to their place, and S was put in bed - way past his bedtime - we felt completely drenched.. So it was actually one of those days... Surely, it's a bit much just to keep us from munching desserts that we don't need?