It’s day one of the school holidays. Have dropped Denny at holiday camp and now riding the lift in Westfield to go meet a friend and her kids at the play area. Of course there are Christmas trees everywhere, because Christmas is mere weeks away and of course Noah is intrigued by each and every one. He’s already inspected the ones in the parking lot and now as we get off the lift he rushes over to have a closer look at the ones embellishing the shopping centre.
Trying to get a really good look, he manages to slip and fall bodily into the Christmas tree. I go over, and heave him up to standing (no easy task with a baby strapped to me). He’s holding his arm and wincing but I tell him to just shake it off and we start walking away. But no, he’s still holding his arm and I go to have a proper look to find HE’S SLASHED HIS WRIST OPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What the actual fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My kid has sliced his wrist open, on a Christmas tree, in the middle of Westfield!!!!!!!!!!! Now what am I supposed to do?
I’m standing there, madly wide eyedly looking around. I don’t even have a band-aid or tissue to hand (not that that would help). Shit!
The women in the nearest store have seen the whole terrible episode unfold and at that moment they come running out to gather us up and usher us into their store. While one gives Noah some water and a tissue, the other calls centre management and security who arrive quick smart to check he’s ok and take a statement. Hmm, methinks they sniff a lawsuit?
There’s much back and forth of “it’s just superficial, Maam” and “not serious” as the security guard cleans the wound and applies a band-aid to Noah’s wrist. Yeah I’m so going to the doctor after this. But first a cake for him and a shot of Valium for me!
What crazy Christmas stories do you have in the locker? Care to share… email hadassah@threelittlehines.com