It was normal playing, with a sister’s finger at the wrong spot at the wrong time.  Katriel got whacked in her eye.  She usually a tough little lass, so the fact that she kept mentioning it, and repeatedly asked about making it better didn’t sit quite right with John and I.  HOWEVER, having been around this parenting block a little bit, we aren’t that quick to run to the doctor. 

But she kept asking.

And I gave in and took her, begrudgingly. 

She was so relieved when I buckled her in the car.

She was so quiet on the drive I actually tried to talk her out of needing to go.

But while she said it would be ok if I didn’t want to take her, something about the voice made me realize it was only money and I needed to take her.  If she didn’t truly need the visit, so be it.  She needed to know Mama believed her.

And she’s smarter than I am.

The corneal tear was gimungo.  So large that as the doctor and the EMT shadowing her left the room and went into the hall, they proclaimed loudly, “Did you see the size of that?”  “Whoa!”

When we got home she all but fell asleep in my arms.  It was stressful for her and humbling for me.  Two days and she should be good as new.