Sage Advice

You know you haven't posted in a while when your own husband accuses you of shutting down your blog.

I have been doing school stuff and scout stuff and trying to suck one last summer-ish day out of a not-so-very-summerish summer. (Sally sells seashells by the seashore.) Plus los ninos have been sick - muy malo. After a week of fevers and smoker's cough we went to the doc.

While we were waiting for the doctor to come in I thought I'd read a bit - Shakespeare, The Federalist Papers, PEOPLE magazine. FM#1 was looking at a magazine, too, and FM#2 was spinning FM#3 round and round and round on the doctor's spinny chair. Now normally this extensive wait would put me on edge (aka-make me crazy mad), but los ninos were being good and I was finding out who the 100 sexiest people were. (Hey, I might need to know that one day.)

Out of the corner of my eye I saw FM#3 go flying. Not just any flying, but an all-out horizontal, frisbee kind of flying. He landed face-down on the floor and began to sob into said floor. His well-intentioned bro had spun him too fast and, because he doesn't know any better, he wasn't holding on for dear life.

I picked him up from his horizontal position and inspected him. Sure enough, a boo-boo. Not a bump, per se. A vein to be exact. It was purple and protruding. "Everybody sit down and be quiet and don't touch that chair again for the rest of your life!" The doc came in ("breathe, breathe, say 'ah'" times 3) She mashed (hard) on the veiny area and declared, "He'll be fine."

Sinus infections. Antibiotics all around.

For the next few days, FM#3 had a bruise that ran in a rather straight line above his eyebrow. It made him look like he was frowning and mad. Nothing like a 2-1/2 year old sportin' a 'tude.

A bit of advice for the youngsters in the crowd: if you're going to fling your brother off a spinny chair, make sure you do it in the doctor's office.