Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all around the blue hutch
Things were calm and quiet; playing hide and seek and such.
Honey was upstairs playing games on the computer.
Bubba was playing with him – it couldn’t have been cuter.
The girls were busy playing both upstairs and down
With giggles and laughter their signature sound.
And I was in the bathtub all hidden away;
taking time from my chores to “come out” to play.
When up in Little’s room there arose such a clatter
It took all I could muster not to see what was the matter.
Little was crying, such a hullabaloo,
And Honey was trying to make sense of his crew.
Before I could speak the girls were back at their play –
I was still in the bathtub all hidden away.
Then what to my wondering eyes did appear?
Two little girls’ faces – they found me, the dears!
I held Little’s head and I kissed her sweet cheek,
Then I looked at my hand and could hardily speak.
There was blood on my fingers and some on my palm
So I checked out the gash and tried to stay calm.
Now Honey! Now pullups! Now dinner is done!
Now iPad and iPod – grab both, not just one!
To the van in the drive! To St. Luke’s down the street!
Go grab a light jacket and shoes for your feet!
And then in a twinkling we were parking the car
And giving names and birth dates in the ER.
Little charmed all the nurses and brightened their day.
We were shown to a room where we waited and prayed.
Information was shared and they cut Little’s hair
While I sat with “mom sadness” in my own little chair.
(The nurse that was working was the very same one
Who set Bubba’s arm back in July’s hot sun!)
Soon Little was ready for what was up next
And I was thankful for Apple and wi-fi and texts.
I turned when I heard sounds of steps on the floor,
and then Dr. Harris walked right through our door.
He was tall and bright-eyed, a right jolly old elf,
And I smiled when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A question or two and a glance at her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke no more words, but went straight to his work,
giving Little a shot, staying true when she jerked.
And taking a tool right up in his hand,
He put in three staples, not the stitches I’d planned!
He pulled off his gloves and gave some instruction,
Then assured me the staples would perform their function.
And I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he walked out of sight,
“Happy Thanksgiving to all. Now go home and sleep tight!”