"Hello Head, nice to meet you. I'm Truck Door..."

I'm thinking I might as well cover Charlie in band-aids before we even leave the house from now on, just to stay ahead of the game.   Thank goodness after the last dirt bike fiasco I bought new first aid kits for the vehicles, because we had to bust in to one today about .10 seconds after setting foot onto soil at our destination.  

Is it really such a coincidence that the same kid keeps ending up in the emergency room, has the most accidents and has probably lost the most blood over the course of his life in comparison to the others?  HE IS ACCIDENT PRONE!  I really think he is. Only Charlie could cut his head open on the truck DOOR.  Yup.  As he was crazily exiting the back seat, running before his feet ever hit the ground, his forehead collided with the opening driver door.  Who does that!  After hearing the 'THUD' and the initial scream,  I looked over to see a bawling kid sprawled out on the new concrete approach cupping his forehead, which was leaking blood.   All I could think was "you have to be kidding me!"  

Luckily for me, I've picked up plenty of tips from watching the ER nurses patch Charlie up in the past, so I got the gap closed pretty tight with some teeny butterfly bandages I whipped up. He calmed down significantly after he was cleaned up and bandaged, even finding pleasure in the fact he was the first one to drop 13 drops of blood on the new concrete.  Ah memories!  I had thought about having them put their hand prints or initials in the freshly poured concrete, but since we didn't get the chance, I guess I'll have to settle for blood stains instead.  Hey, you can't get much more personal than that!