November 16. 2008
Upon arriving home from our Civil War weekend, L and M decided to go out in the yard and continue the battle. M angered by L’s pretendings, used his gun as a missile and launched it into L’s forehead. An ER visit, 7 stitches and a teddy bear later L is on the mend.
L's story: "I have 2 mouths. One talked too much so we stitched it up. Now it is always smiling." – said to the nurse who replied, “Well that’s a good story to go with it (her smiley shaped wound on her head.)”
While in the ER, D and E wrote her a poem:
O sister! My sister! Your fearful stitches are sown
I hope since you got back, you will not groan
We made you some brownies to make you feel better
It’s not very much like a new Irish setter
M---- is sorry
While you are scarry
But O heart! Heart! Heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
The driveway has conquered every blood splat
We hope that your forehead will not flap
(A bit of explanation: D is memorizing Walt Whitman’s O Captain, My Captain. Do you think Mr. Whitman dreamed of what minds he’d inspire?)