Stitches and Teachers

I was supposed to go do a photo shoot yesterday evening for a company, but it got postponed and it was a good thing, because I spent the evening in Urgent Care. (Which should have been more accurately named Take Your Time Care, or Forget About The Patient and Gossip About Your Neighbor Care.) Aidan came home from school covered in blood from a gaping gash in his chin compliments of a post school bike crash. I'm not really squeamish, but I did have to avert my eyes while they were sewing it closed. Some things are better left unseen. Instead, I stared at the walls, but they were such an ugly depressing brown color, with hideous pictures that looked as if someone had pulled them out of the trash in the seventies, that I settled on staring at the white sheet instead. At least it was white with a comforting worn look. Unlike the rest of the room that looked worn, but in a way that made you feel like you might either be really sick or want to hurt someone, it was a toss up for me.



Sunset from the top of the ski run in Telluride

Aidan has this group of friends at school, and often I spend the last few minutes of evening sitting on the edge of his bed as he describes stories of the day's antics. I laugh because I think they are witty and clever and funny. Sometimes teachers call me and share stories in their grown up teacher language which makes everything sound more stern and serious. Sometimes, I still laugh, just a little bit, because it still sounds funny, and then I remember that I'm a responsible grown up and try to think what would my sister do? and respond accordingly. 



Sunset over Telluride





Clint Eastwood was our doctor at the non Urgent Care. He even talked with a sort of drawl, and carried his scissors in a quick draw little holster in the small of his back. I'm also sure he had a horse tied up out back.


They asked Aidan if he might be allergic to anything in the salve and he said, "No, just cats, so I'm pretty sure we are okay, unless that's a cat you are rubbing on my face", which seemed to confuse the nurse who launched into an explanation about it's really the protein in the cat hair that he was allergic to, not the cat. So if they were rubbing a hairless cat on his face, it would be ok?