So Long, Finn McMissile

About two months ago, I was sitting in the kitchen eating lunch when the toddler came up to me and dropped his Finn McMissile car on my knee. It was an accident, but I cannot even tell you how badly it hurt. I cried harder than I can ever remember. I've broken ten bones in my twenty-five years, and I literally thought I was going to have to go to the hospital.

I know. So dramatic. But I'm totally not kidding.

So, this morning, I was in the kitchen cleaning up breakfast, baby boy was sleeping in the living room, the toddler was running all around, and Mr. Hubby was back in our bedroom grabbing some extra zzzzz's. All of a sudden, I heard him yell. I turned the water off and froze. The toddler was sent (crying and screaming) to time-out, and I could gather from what was going on that my husband had been hurt.

I walked back into our bedroom. "Babe, what's going on!?"

And then I saw the blood dripping down his chin.

The culprit?

Yep. He'd struck again. Finn McMissile.

Apparently, while my husband was sleeping, the toddler had crawled up on our bed and thrown his Finn McMissile car directly into Daddy's face. 

I felt so bad for my husband, because I knew how bad it hurt when the toddler accidentally dropped the heavy car on my knee. My hubby was pulling out a bunch of medical stuff (like how technical I am?). He said, "I need to stitch this up."

My response? "You are not stitching this up! If this were your leg or something, fine. But, babe, it's your face!" (And a verrrrrry good looking face, I might add.)

So my husband decided to steri-strip his face, but he quickly discovered that because of where the deep cut was, he couldn't put a steri-strip on it.

And that's when I called my uncle, who just so happens to be a plastic surgeon. "Can you please stitch my husband up?" I asked. 

Needless to say, Finn McMissile is G-O-N-E. (As in, he's been stuffed in the t.v. cabinet in our room, never to emerge.) And all day, the toddler has been saying, "I hurt Daddy's face." He's devastated that one of his favorite cars is "all gone," but the hubbs and I have decided that since Mommy and Daddy have both been seriously hurt by this car, that as fate would have it, the baby is next--and we're pretty sure he couldn't handle Mr. McMissile. ;)