The last thing I heard before “the accident” was GWE asking me if I wanted a glass of wine with dinner. I never got to answer her. Before I could say “Sure!,” Garrett managed to trip over his scooter, fall forward, and bang his head into the corner of the patio door. GWE caught him as he went down. As she turned him over, I saw the gash in his forehead.

Personal experience told me this was serious. (I have the same cut on my forehead from going head first into a brick mailbox when I was a kid.)

I looked at GWE and calmly said, “We need to go – now. I think he’s going to need stitches.” From that moment forward, the chaos of the evening fell away and we were a well-oiled machine with one purpose – get Garrett to the doctor! I took the food off the grill, turned off the propane, turned off the oven, grabbed my keys and wallet, scooped up Garrett, and raced to the car. GWE looked up the closest medical facility. Justin (who was beating the crap out of his brother less than an hour earlier) saw the severity of the situation and instantly became my “wingman.” For the first time ever, Justin took every instruction I gave him without question. He got Garrett a Band-Aid, his shoes, a toy, and got into the car. As all of this was happening, Garrett was perfectly fine. I wiped away his tears and I asked him if he wanted to go for a ride in the car. He happily said, “Yup.” His only request was that I put on “SpongeBob SquarePants.”

GWE likes to joke that I have a magical ability to find the slowest lane possible. There have only been two occasions when I’ve purposely “Nascar’d” it. Once, when taking GWE to the hospital to give birth Justin…and last Monday. (We are now calling it, “The Labor Day Accident of 2014.”)

We arrived at the doctor’s office 8 minutes later. They numbed him, glued him back together, bandaged him up, and then handed him some stickers. Additionally, he was insistent that they use the stethoscope to check his heart. (He has a toy one at home.) All in all, he had a fantastic time and made some new friends! GWE and I aged a decade in less than an hour.

During the car ride home and all throughout dinner, Garrett retold us about his harrowing adventure of bumping his head and visiting the doctor (as if we hadn’t been there with him.) Even though most of it was babble, I could tell that Garrett’s “tall tales” of bodily harm were getting worse and worse with every retelling of the story. I was waiting for him to tell us how he used his sharp toenail and a piece of string from his shirt to stitch his own head back together – without Novocain!

Once the kids were asleep and everything calmed down, I finally had that glass of wine GWE offered me hours earlier…and then I followed it up with a glass of scotch!