Gray Hair Tale #1,287

::phone ringing::

Me:  Hello

Baby Girl (BG):  MOM! MOM!! *click*

I quickly dial back, the phone goes to voicemail.


Don’t panic, don’t panic.

::phone ringing::

Me: Baby girl?

BG: MOM!! I fell, with the baby…*garbled, garbled*

Me: Is she hurt?

BG: *screaming/crying/hysterical*MOM!!!

Me: Dammit…calm down a second, BG!! IS. SHE. HURT???

BG: No, she’s fine *screaming again, crying* I broke my fucking ankle!!!

Don’t panic, don’t panic, baby girl is home alone with her two babies and I’m over an hour away.

Me: Did you get a hold of your hubby?

BG: I called *screaming again* no…*sobbing*…answer

Me: Okay, let me see what I can do.  Where are you?  Where are the girls?

BG: *sobbing, hysterical*On the floor, in the hallway. I was getting out of the truck with baby in my arms and somehow I rolled over on my ankle and fell.  I landed on my elbow and baby’s head was like an inch from the floor…OH. GOD.THE. PAIN!!!

Me: Alright, I’m going to try to find someone close by (her sister, brother, and sister-in-law are all within 20 minutes of her) you keep calling hubby.

::five minutes pass, I can’t get anyone and my phone rings::

Me: Baby girl? Did you get a hold of hubby?


Shit, shit, shit…okay, think Mom…

Me: *looking at my boss who can hear BG screaming/crying on phone and looks genuinely alarmed* I’m on my way, you keep calling hubby. *boss nods and I grab my stuff and run out the door*

I called my hubby on the way to BG’s house.

Hubby: Hello?

Me: Hey, BG thinks she’s broken her ankle.  She’s lying on the floor at her house and we can’t get a hold of anyone.  I’m on my way out there now, but I’m like an hour away.  *I look down at my reads ‘80’…I try not to think about that*

Hubby: What the fuck happened?

Me:  I don’t really know, she’s hysterical.  From what I gather, she fell getting out of the truck with the baby and somehow rolled her ankle in the process.

Hubby: Sonofa……

Me: I know, right?  Can you call her?

Hubby: Me? Why?

Me: Because YOU are her Daddy, and you are always able to calm her down.

Hubby: Okay, but you keep me informed.

Me: Thank you, honey.  I will.

I hang up the phone and for the next few minutes concentrate on driving like a madwoman through the Dallas traffic.

::phone rings – it’s BG’s husband::

Me: Where are you?

BG Hubby: I’m on my way home, be there in 15 minutes or so.

Me: Okay, I’m on my way there, too.  I’ll watch the girls while you take BG to the hospital.

BG Hubby: Okay.

I hang up again and go back to NASCAR on the freeway.

::phone rings – it’s my daughter-in-law::

Me: Hello

D-I-L: Hey, what’s going on?  Everyone’s phone is blowing up.

I relay the events and ask d-i-l if she can come out to the house to watch the girls after she gets off work – she lives very close by.  I can’t stay too late as I have to work the next day and we don’t know how long BG may be at the hospital.

D-I-L: Sure, no problem.  I’ll see you around 6:00.

Me: Thank you!

I’m almost to BG’s house now and realize that a one-hour trip has taken me less than 40 minutes.  I don’t even….sigh…thank you, God.

I walk in to find BG and her hubby in the bedroom.  BG is on the floor, her ankle is roughly twice its normal size, but it looks to me to be more of a strain/sprain than break.

We carry her to the car and a couple of hours later she texts me the good news – no break, BUT severe strain to ligaments, possibly a tear but time will tell if she needs surgery.  For now, it’s a boot, crutches, ice, and heavy-duty ibuprofen.

And that, dear readers, was how I spent my Monday….getting gray hair # 1,287.

What did you do?

Posted on October 11, 2012, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. Well, I’ve yet to have anything anywhere similar to that as a grandparent since mine have no kids yet.

    My wife and I have lost count how many times we dropped ours little babies 😀 (They don’t weigh enough for it to be likely that they will get any serious injury when they fall off the bed)

    Our oldest even fell on her head with her bottom towards he ceiling more times than I can count.

  2. Oh CJ! You poor thing! I’m glad it wasn’t broken and I hope BG won’t need surgery. I’ll be thinking of you and your family. Be nice to yourself sweetie, after all that excitement you deserve it!

  3. What a story! Like you, all our kids are now having kids and Mr. Eyebrows and I smile often waiting to see what interesting adventures are in store for them with their babies. Of course, we will be the grandparents of those babies so will not be immune to the trials and tribulations, as your story attests.

    This reminds me of something I did to my mom a number of years ago. At the time, I lived on a ranch out toward the California coast.

    I looked out my living room window one morning and saw a goat in my yard. I did not have goats, so I went out to investigate. Since it had a collar and an ear tag on, I assumed it belonged to someone but had escaped. The goat was just standing in my yard and didn’t appear to be nervous or afraid of me. I grabbed a halter rope and went to snap it on the collar. Just as i snagged the collar, the goat dropped and rolled, taking the middle finger of my left hand with it. Ouch.

    When the goat got up and scampered away, I took a look at my finger. It was bent down and around my other fingers. Not good. As I walked back to the house cradling my hand, I saw that the goat was standing on my deck. Just as I noticed that, the dang thing noticed me noticing it and turned and ran…right into my house. I had left the back door ajar. Great…just great. I followed it inside.

    My first thought: That damn goat is going to pee and poop all over my house…I have to get it outside. I went around and closed all the doors to bedrooms and bathrooms, opened front and back doors and tried to shoosh it out. No luck. It ran behind the wood stove. I grabbed the fireplace poker and shooshed it out. It ran around the dining room table. I shooshed it into the kitchen. I followed. So far, no pee or poop. I was grateful, but thought it was only a matter of time. Finally, I shooshed it into the laundry room and cornered it by the washer and dryer. Around this time, I remembered that my mom was due to come over around noon so we could go out to lunch. I grabbed the phone and gave her a call. When she answered, I said (in a calm voice): “Mom, I can’t go to lunch today. I have a broken finger and a goat is in my house.”
    There was dead silence on her end. For quite awhile. Then: “What!!!” So I explained what had happened and told her I needed to get the goat out of the house and then i had to go to the doctor to fix my finger so I wouldn’t be able to go to lunch with her. She said: “Your father and I will be right over.”

    Needless to say, they came to my rescue. Dad called the animal shelter people who came and captured the goat (never having made a mess in my house), and Mom took me to the doctor’s office where, after telling my tale caused much laughter, my finger was fixed.

    • Oh Archie – if karma’s paying attention, you will have a story or two like this to tell about your kids before it’s all said and done. LOL! I love the way you calmly said “I have a broken finger and a goat is in my house” as if that was a normal day for you.

  4. Yep, we already do. I have the pleasure of babysitting my youngest granddaughter two days a week. It has been established that she already burps like her momma and farts like Mr. Eyebrows (earning her the nickname “Tooter”) at the ripe old age of 3 months. You can be sure that THAT will follow her all her life!

    CJ, thank you for providing the opportunity for me to tell the story again. It brought back wonderful memories of my mom. How she would laugh when she recalled how matter-of-fact I was in that telephone conversation with her! I miss her.

  5. Wow… that was quite the Monday… no wonder it is NOT our favorite day of the week! Thank goodness BG has family and friends she can rely on. Good for all of you for getting to her so quickly. It is amazing what we can do, even in a panic (or should I say especially when in a panic!). Crutches for a little while will be inconvenienient, but definitely better than a full blown break.

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