Trauma at the Playgroup

How many times do you ask your kids not to slam the doors? At our new house, we ask a lot. A lot alot. For some reason, the stairs being open to the floor below make a fascinating upstairs, downstairs run for all small children that come into our house. They run up, through the open hall to Matthew's room, and back down--- over and over. And, as they say, it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. That someone? who else but Matthew. It goes without saying that all of my warnings were in vain. His fingers finally got caught in the door! I didn't expect all the blood everywhere, though, he was covered in it, having wiped his hand all over his shirt. Then, of course, I was covered too as I carried him down to the kitchen. Playgroup came to a quick halt, and we cleared off to the urgent care around the corner to see what they could do. Fortunately, we emerged an hour and a half later with a glued wound, taped up and protected by a small splint to prevent further injury. Matthew doesn't seem too fussed about it. He didn't scream or fuss, he just kept asking if we could go to McDonald's afterwards if he was good. Smart kid. Here he is waving his nice big middle finger proudly after finally being changed out of his bloody clothes, and of course after his nice fast food meal. What's a little trauma if you get chicken nuggets out of it, right?