My dear grandson found out the hard way that there is a right way and a wrong way to whittle with a pocket knife. He was at Cub Scout Camp with his dad for the weekend. Larry was packing up to leave and gave Hunter his pocket knife, showed him how to whittle and began finishing up packing the van. Hunter sliced his hand and fortunately for him, one of the dads was nearby and is an EMT. Hunter passed out but Chris took care of him while Alison ran to find Stacey, a trauma nurse and mom of one of the scouts who happens to be Hunter's best friend.
They rushed him to Emergency and he was given 6 big stitches and some pain meds. Alison texted me and later I walked over to their house. I needed a walk to relieve stress but also wanted to be sure my grandson was okay. As for the stress, I had baked six loaves of zucchini bread and made a canner full of apple pie jam to take home to Florida.
When I got to their house, Grace greeted me at the door excitedly telling me about Hunter. I looked around the corner to the back of the couch and saw an uplifted arm wrapped in gauze. Hunter lifted his head to mutter "Hi." He was obviously under the influence of drugs and a protective mom directed him to lay down. After hugs and hearing what happened, I sat a bit with my daughter trying not to talk too much about my mom since the kids were there. Alison was trying to assure me that everything could work out but she also was preparing me in case.
Annie and Lonnie arrived and I left--it was time and I needed to get home. I'm still overwhelmed. Heck is midnight and here I am typing. I can't sleep--I took an Advil PM since I have a headache too.
I'm sure that my little man is sleeping pretty good right now and that he has one great story to share with his buds tomorrow!
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