Oh Oliver

Have I mentioned that Oliver gets into everything? He does. He has learned how to get water from the fridge and likes to make big puddles on the floor to splash in. I caught him pouring a big glass of water on the carpet and he tried to hurry and splash in it before I grabbed it away. It makes me mad and cracks me up at the same time. I don't know if you can tell from this picture, but he got a hold of my mascara and put it on his left eye quite expertly before I caught him:


Yesterday his mischief was not so funny. I was cleaning out some closets and found a fluorescent light bulb that I put in a pile of things to be taken to the storage room. I remember thinking - I'd better put that away before Oliver gets a hold of it. I wish I listened to myself more. A short time later I heard him crying in the kitchen and found him in the middle of this scene:


His foot was covered with blood and gushing. It sent me into a swearing panic and I could not remember the doctor's phone number which I've called a million times before and I had to look it up in the phone book. They said the soonest appointment was in an hour and even though that seemed like too long to wait, I knew the ER would take three times as long. He had a big gash on the bottom of his foot, and another cut that was smaller. First I tried wrapping it in a towel:


That didn't go well, but then I started to calm down and remembered our first aid kit. That was very helpful and I got him all bandaged up and hoped that a lollipop and Sesame Street would help him pass the time more enjoyably. It didn't:

(Normally I don't take pictures of my kids in distress, but I had time to kill. You understand.)

Man, doctors take their sweet-A time. He finally got three stitches in the deep cut, and they glued the other one. He was pretty unhappy during it, but the doctor said normally they have to get several people to hold 2-year-olds down during stitches. They were surprised how good he was. They would say, "We're almost done, ok?" and he would say, "Oookaaay" through his tears. And he said "thank you" when they were finished. It was so sweet and funny.

When we got home he sat on the couch and read books:

(Thomas the Tank Engine is very, very exciting, in case you didn't know.)

Later that night I remembered (in another panic) that after he had his heart surgery, they told me that in the future, he would have to be on antibiotics before any dental cleanings or other surgical things. So I called the doctor back and they gave him a whopping dose of penicillin. Whew. I'm glad I remembered that.

He can't get his foot wet for several days, which is really convenient, since he rarely gets wet or messy. Tonight he bathed himself in mint chocolate chip ice cream:

Sigh. At least he's cute.