Gently rubbing my blood-stained hands, I feel the twinge of regret. But, before you get the wrong idea, maybe I should rewind and start this story from the beginning...
I was polishing off my chicken strip salad...Fischer and Tracy were already done eating their supper. Tracy was seated in the living room and Fischer was playing near me. I heard something heavy begin to slide and turned, too late, to see my son get cracked in the head by a flower pot whose vine he had been tugging on.
As crying got under way, for some reason I got angry. "That's what you GET when you pull on stuff. Mommy has TOLD you NOT to mess with th..."
My ranting ceased when the blood started to drip down his face. I jerked him into my arms and ran for the faucet and paper towels.
"Baby, is he OK?!" my wife bolted into the kitchen to assess the situation. The blood sent her overboard, "OH, MY GOSH! I can't watch this, I can't watch this!" She ran into our bedroom sobbing.
"He'll be alright," I yelled. "We just have to stop the bleeding."
Somehow I was holding it together, being patient for everyone. Fischer began to calm down. I took away the wet paper towel, which was now soaked with dirt and blood. I tried to clean up the wound a bit so I could see how bad it was. Wetting another paper towel, I took Fischer into the living room and gently sat down on the couch.
Tracy rejoined us, a little more composed. But, the moment I removed the towel, the waterworks resumed! "Is he going to need stitches?"
Together, we took him to the bathroom and held his head under the sink. We cleaned him up a little, but the bleeding wasn't stopping.
So now I am in the Urgent Care, waiting for the doctor to take Fischer. She already took a look at him in the waiting room and said he will probably need one or two stitches.
Even though the bleeding has stopped, the blood on my hands and shirt bring back the whole scary situation. I feel regret because I wasn't watching. I feel weak because I didn't prevent it from happening. I feel like a terrible parent. I feel so...human.
UPDATE: As blood washes away and healing begins, my intense feelings subside (probably because the adrenaline stopped pumping!) I realize I can NEVER be everywhere and fix everything. Is that a "Daddy Syndrome" or just a "man thing?" By the way, Fischer ended up with one stitch. Hahahaa...he got a stitch before Mommy and Daddy! That's kinda scary...considering he is TWO!!