If you are new to this blog, you may be unaware that between my four children there have been 26 operations. 26. And, Jackson has had zero. So, that makes 26 amongst 3 boys. Two of those children have just about died on my a couple of times. Seriously. No wonder I'm exhausted.
So, it was no surprise that yesterday when I got home from work I saw Braxton (shocker!) with a red bandana wrapped around his thumb/wrist/hand region. I just ignored it for a couple of hours until I finally asked him what happened. "First day of gym, Mom! Pretty sure I broke my thumb!" I am actually laughing while I am typing this because it actually is hilarious. Did I take him to the doctor? Heck no! My boys have had so many injuries, so many broken bones, so many illnesses that at this point if they aren't in danger of being permanently injured or of dying, I wait it out. I'm not kidding.
Uncle Brandon came over last night to give Mama a blessing. He moved that thumb around QUITE.A.BIT. Braxton was screaming and squealing. I felt kind of bad for him. Uncle Brandon doesn't "think" it's broken - probably just jammed really bad. We tied some bags of frozen zucchini to his thumb and sent him to bed. If it still hurts tomorrow, Uncle Brandon will x-ray it.
Until then, he is wearing a red bandana on it.