Battle Wounds

Before I write today's post, I have to begin with a disclaimer.  You see, yesterday, while I was shopping at Costco,  I bumped into a friend, who commented on my blog and asked "how do you come up with something to write about everyday?".  Most of the time, that is if you live here at Shenanigans Inc., there is no end to what you can write about, but then there are times when it can be really difficult and I have to kick the kids outside and tell them to make something happen . . . tee hee!  Well, I promise this is NOT how my next story happened.  I PROMISE!

It was Sunday afternoon, and four Websters and a Skov were heading over to a friends' house for a backyard potluck dinner with other families.  We were very excited!  This group of families is awesome because our kids play so well together and the grown-ups get along really well too. We knew it was going to be a relaxing evening filled with great food and lots of laughs . . . a perfect recipe for fun!

During our drive, we played "Who Wants to be a Millionaire - LDS edition".  I know . . . we truly are geeks!  But, it was a new app for my Iphone Derrick found earlier that day to help entertain and educate the group of 13 year olds he had to teach in Sunday School, and if the Websters can play a game, well that's what we do.  It was tough, and a few times we even made it to the $100,000 mark, but there was always some obscure Old Testament question that messed us up.  Just for the record, there are far too many people in the Old Testament!

Earlier that day, Derrick had left his Freddy Flintstone-like lunch box at the chapel so that was our first destination, and when we were about a minute away from the chapel we called our game quits.  Bad Idea!

Really, what we were thinking?  When you have two little boys who are very excited about playing with their friends after a long day of church and Sunday school, you need to keep them occupied or else!  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a soccer ball being gently tossed back and forth.  No big deal!  But then I noticed the ball was whizzing by more frequently and with more intensity.  Just as I turned around to suggest that we put the ball down, Avery, who has some anger management issues to work out, was feeling threatened and like all small animals who are frightened, he came out fighting.  He grabbed his bag, with a pair of toy binoculars in it and swung it up with all of his might to smack Elliot square in the face.

I didn't even have time to yell.  Instantly, Elliot let out a blood curdling scream and blood poured from his mouth.  He spit something out of his mouth and screamed "my tooth is broken!".  We were all in shock.

I glared at Avery, and thought "I will deal with you later".  I consoled Elliot with my words, and while I rubbed his leg, I told Derrick to get us to the chapel so we could grab some paper towel to clean up this mess.  We pulled into the driveway and bounded out the car.  I came around and took Elliot by the hand and lead him up to the doors.  By this point, he was inconsolible and started to throw up in the bushes. (Elliot is like his mama, and when we get upset, our tummy is the first place we feel it . . . too much information?).  After what felt like an eternity, Zoe ran out with some paper towel and we were able to clean him up.  With all the blood out of the way, we could assess the damage.  Yikes!  Take a look for yourself:

Picture was taken at a later date.

Why do these things always have to happen to grown up teeth?

When Elliot finally calmed down, Zoe took him inside to wash up in the bathroom and examine his battle wound in the mirror. 

With all the excitement passed us, I was ready to deal with the wee-est Webster, but I couldn't find him.  I looked in the car and around the chapel, but he was no where to be found.  Just then I saw one of the tall flowers outside the door rustle and a tiny head pop up and go right back down.

"Avery come on out, please".

My anger completely dissolved when I saw him.  He had tears running down his face, and all he kept asking was "Is Elliot going to be okay?.

We sat together on the curb, and I held him.

When Elliot came out, he made a beeline to his brother and hugged him.

"It's real okay, Avery. It's real okay!"

(Elliot has never said reall-y.  It is always real . . . tee hee!)

This had to be one of the most precious moments of all time!  Two little brothers clinging to one another, with tears streaming down their face and each of them consoling the other one.

By this time, I was crying too, and I am sure any passerby was thinking: "Ugh, those Mormons and their annoying commercials!" 

But, "real" this is how it went down!

No anger, no harsh words, and no punishment.  Life is the best teacher, and when you "real" hurt your number one buddy, you learn pretty quickly not to strike out again.  Well, here's hoping!