Stitches for Isaac

We had some excitement over here two days ago, and I think Sareny's artistic rendering really captures the moment quite well. The kids were playing, and Isaac fell and hit his head on our stone fireplace wall. (I could mention here that I never wanted a fireplace in the first place, but that would be a bit hypocritical, as I have since come to really enjoy having it...) I was upstairs and started coming down when I heard him crying, but I started running when Sareny yelled that he was bleeding all over...you know how head wounds are.
I rushed him off to the urgent care down the hill, only to find that the building had been foreclosed on them. What a sign of the times. Took him to Goodnight Pediatrics, and after waiting there for over an hour, were finally seen by a Dr. who looked at his head, then told us we needed to go to the emergency room, because she didn't do stitches. I thought stitches was part of basic Dr. training, go figure.
So we headed off to the local hospital, where we waited for about 4 hours before they finally came in to put some stitches in his head.  When the Dr. finally came in, Isaac told him "You are slow as a slow-poke!" I was secretly glad.
The Dr., whom I can only assume got his medical degree at the backwater school of the Institute of Poor Bedside Manners, asked me loudly right in front of Isaac, "How is he with shots?" Really?? He's four, he's not stupid, and, gasp, he can actually understand what you are saying! Big surprise when Isaac started crying and saying he didn't want shots. I was so mad! But somehow, we got through the night and Isaac was pretty good, even when he was getting three shots in his head. 

The final part of the story was so absurd, I almost couldn't believe it happened. First, I have to mention that my dad likes to play around with the kids and asks them, "Who wants blisters?" Blisters being spankings, like if you were going to blister someone's bottom. It's all in fun, and the kids secretly love it and run around squealing and both getting and giving blisters.

So here we are in the hospital, about to leave. A nurse came in, gave us our discharge instructions, and we all stand up to leave. Isaac tells the nurse, whom he has known all of two minutes "I'm going to give you blisters," and he raises up his arm. I lunged and grabbed him and said "No Isaac!" The nurse was like, "What did he say?" I think that was a perfect time to play stupid and pretend I didn't understand him either, but instead, my tired and sluggish brain didn't think of that, and I tried to explain as best as I could. I was so embarrassed! Anyway, here is Isaac today, all smiles now.