Bloody Ice Cream

     Yesterday was Ball's first day of spring break.  I sent her to gymnastics camp so she could run, play, do some art, have a snack, and tumble.  After camp Ball, the cousins, and grandma met us for lunch.  I arrived early, ordered everyone's meals, and then looked around for a table.  The only place for a group of six to sit was at the high tables with the high stools.  I wasn't thrilled with this option because 2 of the diners are only 4 and I was a little worried about how they would do, but I took it.

     Once everyone got seated everything was great.  I had apparently worried for no reason.  The girls were sitting well, happy about a fun morning, and enjoying their lunch.  We sat talking and relaxing as the girls all finished up their meal.  Then I started to clear our space and throw trash away.  When my back was turned was when I heard it. 

     My daughter screamed loudly and was standing on the ground, crying.  Standing on the ground?  Why was she on the ground instead of on her stool?  I knew immediately she had hurt herself.  I asked her to show me what hurt and she opened her mouth showing me the tip of her tongue which was bluish and bleeding.  She had fallen off the stool, hit her chin on the high table, and bit her tongue open.

     In full Mommy mode, I picked her up, walked over to Hub's water cup, took the lid off, and shook it to see if there was ice in it for her.  Of course there wasn't ice.  I had shaken an almost full water cup without a lid all over the side of my body soaking my right sleeve and Hubs.  But I could not be deterred.  I appropriated Hub's cup, carried Ball to the soda machine, filled the cup with ice, and handed it to Ball for immediate first aid.

     The ice started numbing her tongue and Ball was calming down.  As we walked outside I made my proclamation.  In order for Ball to properly heal, she needed ice cream.  Ball and I would go order Daddy's ice cream birthday cake and get ourselves a treat.  Considering the state of Ball's tongue, I considered this a necessity. 

     In the car ride to the ice cream shop I wondered if ice cream really was the best thing for a bitten tongue.  Would the cream introduce bacteria into an open wound?  Would this make her tongue worse?  Most importantly, would bloody ice cream taste good?  As I pulled into the parking lot of the ice cream shop pondering these thoughts I heard a familiar sound in the back seat; Ball snoring.  The answer to these questions would have to wait.