The warm, sunny Friday turned cloudy mid-afternoon. Shortly before quitting time, the rain began. While I appreciated that the rain brought comfortably cool temperatures, I sighed. A downpour usually prevents me from taking Philip and Roscoe on our evening walk. It always eliminates the option of playing in the backyard after supper.
Despite the weather, I was looking forward to the evening. My best friend was still in town after her mom’s surprise party. We had made plans for her to join us for supper. She was there when I arrived with pizza.
It was a perfect plan-my friend doesn’t eat meat, so she removed the pepperoni from her slices to share with Philip. We ate and talked. The rain had lessened by the time we finished, so I decided to take the boys on a short walk. My friend joined me and held the dog’s leash. It was nice not to be pulled in two separate directions.
The raindrops were getting fatter by the time we turned around to head back to the house. I decided that, since our walk had been abbreviated and there would be no chance for backyard play, I had better go get Philip’s trampoline. I was convinced this was the right choice when Philip started bouncing on the recliner.
Philip followed me upstairs. As soon as I reached the top of the stairs, I glanced into my bedroom and saw some of Philip’s handiwork from earlier in the day.
I wanted to get a picture of the book arrangement, but first I needed to take the trampoline downstairs. Philip tried to grab it as I headed toward the stairs, but I told him no. He went to play in his room while I carried the trampoline downstairs.
I could hear Philip running in his room upstairs as I set down the trampoline in the living room. I was grabbing the camera when I heard “Wham!” followed by Philip’s cries. By the time I got upstairs, Philip was climbing onto his bed. I had no idea what happened. Based on the running-thud combination, I assumed that Philip had tripped and fell.
My friend came upstairs to see if I needed help. Philip was still wailing, lying on his belly and pausing only to wipe his runny nose and tears from his eyes. I didn’t see blood. I didn’t see anything at first. My friend was looking at his hands and arms to see if anything looked broken, sprained or otherwise injured.
Then I saw the bump. When I said, “Oh, no,” my friend spotted it, too. It had taken a moment for the goose egg to form on his forehead. Our best guess is that Philip tripped and hit either his bed or his dresser when he fell.
You can see sort of see the redness in this photo.
From the side, the swelling is obvious.
Philip cried for a while, but the tears did subside. My first instinct (after picking him up to comfort him) was to get an icepack. I wrapped one in a towel, but he wouldn’t let me hold it to his forehead. My friend tried demonstrating on her own head, but Philip either played with the towel or pushed the whole thing away. I had to settle for administering some Ibuprofen.
Philip has tenderly poked at the bump. I’m sure he is curious about it, but it makes me cringe. I tried to be very careful during his bath, especially after he rubbed the sore spot against me when I carried him upstairs. This brought a brief return of tears.
So far, the bump looks awful, but he seems to feel okay. He was soon back to running back and forth across the living room and jumping on the trampoline. I put the trampoline away after he jumped onto it from the recliner for the second time. I really don’t want any additional injuries or to make the existing one worse.
Because of Philip’s maneuvers like jumping off the furniture and running at break-neck speed, Peter and I weren’t surprised by this boo-boo. We’re surprised he hasn’t had one sooner. As much as one hopes that natural consequences will teach caution, I’m not sure that is the case.
We, on the other hand, are being cautious. Since he bumped his head, we are carefully observing Philip for any change in behaviour. He has been playing, laughing, drinking and snacking as usual, so it should be safe to let him sleep through the night if he can.