On October 20th, Bryson and his dad took Baylor to his first U of M/MSU game at U of M. In the morning, Mollie and I went to a couple craft shows (and picked up an adorable outfit for her doll Sally), then we headed to my parents' house to watch the game with them. Well, we were going to watch the game after lunch and after Dad and I went back to our house to quickly install a new kitchen faucet. Ours had been leaking quite badly for a while, and now that the new one had arrived it was time for the switch.
Everything was going really well, even though Dad insisted on being the one squeezed into the cabinet, and we were on track to be back to their house well before the start of the big game. One of the last things we had to do under the sink was hook up the hot and cold water lines. Unfortunately, the lines were too long to connect one way and too short to connect another, so we had to cut them. This would have been fine had the faucet been sitting on the counter, but we had already firmly screwed it into the sink. Dad was sure we could cut it perfectly straight while still installed, so we gave it a shot. He tried a hack saw first, but it made too jagged of a cut. I offered to get a utility knife, and he agreed that might be our next best shot. The blade that was in there was pretty dull, but Dad thought we should give it a try anyway. No dice. So I put a new blade in, handed it to Dad, and warned him that it was REALLY sharp. As he started to cut he said, "I better be careful otherwise I could cut myself."
Then ...
"Agh! Nicole, help me out here." Yup, he cut himself. Really bad, actually. Like cut a huge chunk out of the pad of his finger. He was sure we could just slap a bandaid on it and keep going, but when we couldn't get it to stop gushing blood, I insisted we go to the med center. He reluctantly agreed, and I drove us there as safely as I could. (Dad, not being the best passenger, was ticked off most of the way there. Apparently I was not driving aggressively enough or something. Anyway ...)
They eventually got us back to a room, we eventually were seen by a doctor, who eventually told my dad that he was going to pour some stuff on it to get it to stop bleeding. Of course, the irony was that he had to get it to stop bleeding long enough to pour the stuff on it to get it to stop bleeding for good. After cutting off the circulation to Dad's thumb ... (graphic picture here!)
Everything was going really well, even though Dad insisted on being the one squeezed into the cabinet, and we were on track to be back to their house well before the start of the big game. One of the last things we had to do under the sink was hook up the hot and cold water lines. Unfortunately, the lines were too long to connect one way and too short to connect another, so we had to cut them. This would have been fine had the faucet been sitting on the counter, but we had already firmly screwed it into the sink. Dad was sure we could cut it perfectly straight while still installed, so we gave it a shot. He tried a hack saw first, but it made too jagged of a cut. I offered to get a utility knife, and he agreed that might be our next best shot. The blade that was in there was pretty dull, but Dad thought we should give it a try anyway. No dice. So I put a new blade in, handed it to Dad, and warned him that it was REALLY sharp. As he started to cut he said, "I better be careful otherwise I could cut myself."
Then ...
"Agh! Nicole, help me out here." Yup, he cut himself. Really bad, actually. Like cut a huge chunk out of the pad of his finger. He was sure we could just slap a bandaid on it and keep going, but when we couldn't get it to stop gushing blood, I insisted we go to the med center. He reluctantly agreed, and I drove us there as safely as I could. (Dad, not being the best passenger, was ticked off most of the way there. Apparently I was not driving aggressively enough or something. Anyway ...)
They eventually got us back to a room, we eventually were seen by a doctor, who eventually told my dad that he was going to pour some stuff on it to get it to stop bleeding. Of course, the irony was that he had to get it to stop bleeding long enough to pour the stuff on it to get it to stop bleeding for good. After cutting off the circulation to Dad's thumb ... (graphic picture here!)
... he poured this weird sandy-looking stuff on my dad's thumb which stopped the bleeding entirely. Apparently it acts like a chemical scab
After that, the doctor said to wait a minute and someone would be in to get things bandaged up. Dad, not being the most patient man alive and wanting badly to see all of the game AND still get the faucet finished up, was a little antsy waiting for the nurse. So I took his picture to take his mind off things. He really appreciated that.
Eventually we got out of there and made our way back to my house where we installed the rest of the faucet ... and found the rest of Dad's thumb skin. So that was fun.
Mom knew about the accident and seemed kinda worried about him, and also had a heck of a time getting Mollie to nap, so we scooted back to their house and watched the game together. We also showed them the piece of skin we found - I brought it there in a plastic baggie - but Mom and Christine were less than interested in it, to say the least.
Mollie, though she was short on sleep, did a good job watching the game and taking care of Sally.
A two-and-a-half-year-old can only be interested in football for so long, though, and soon she wanted to read some books instead. So Oma obliged ... in between big plays, of course.
After the heartbreaking loss, we had some dinner then enjoyed a little apple pie dessert. The crust was so sturdy that Mom was able to pick up the last bit of it and eat it like pizza.
And my big-handed girl Mollie and her Aunt Christine decided to see how close their hand sizes were. Looks like they'll soon be sharing gloves!
In spite of the mishap and the MSU loss, we still had a good day; it's hard not to when you're spending time with family.
Baylor, incidentally, had a great time at his first game at U of M. When the Spartans lost, he said to my husband and the other family members that had gone with him, "That's too bad that MSU lost. But at least Michigan won!" My Baylor ... always the optimist.
With that said ...
GO GREEN!
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