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My 2 oldest babies are my teenage daughters. I pretty much knew what to expect in raising them. My youngest baby is my 10-year old son. He keeps surprising me with boy stuff. Things I don’t see coming. Things that are taking years off my life each time he surprises me.
One week-end when the weather was gorgeous, we sent him outside to play. I was busy with a complicated chore upstairs when my son opened the front house door and asked, “Dad, can I have a paper towel?” My husband replied, “Sure, just a minute.” A few seconds later my son asked in a shaky voice, “Uh, Dad, could I have a paper towel now?” My husband figured something was up. He grabbed a paper towel and headed to the front door. I didn’t know any of this was going on, all I heard was my husband frantically call my name. I was tied up with my chore and yelled back, “What?” He yelled back more frantically, “We need you!”
Long story short. My son had cut both his thumb and his index finger with a pocket knife. The paper towel was like using a tissue to mop up a flood. We wrapped a towel around his hand and ran to the emergency room.
Everything is okay now, after stitches, a tetanus shot and 3 trips to the hand surgeon.
But for 2 weeks after the ER trip, we had to clean and bandage his thumb and finger every night. I had a pile of supplies sitting on my counter that was driving me crazy. Who needs more stuff on their kitchen counter? And the pile was never this neat.
By the second day, when I could breate again, I figured I had to corral all this stuff in one place. It needed to be temporary and easily accessible. The entire cleaning and bandaging process was stressful enough (there’s a reason I didn’t go into the medical field) I needed to reduce any stress that I could.
I grabbed a plasctic box from my stash of repurposed food packing containers…
Everything was neatly contained in one spot on the counter. The basket was easy to grab and carry to the table where we both sat down for the procedure each night. And the best part, after my son had the stitches removed, we could recycle the box and never think about that process again. Whew.
My mom came to visit last year and asked if she could help me with anything. So being the thoughtful daughter that I am, I immediately put her to work on a task I’d been wanting to tackle for years. Thanks, Mom! I was so excited to get my mom started before she changed her mind that…