Around midnight, my wife and I heard a loud “thump” followed by screaming. We ran to our daughter’s room and found her lying on the floor, crying, clearly terrified. I picked her up and held her, feeling around her legs, hips, arms, and head to see if anything seemed out of place or painful. That’s when my wife noticed the blood soaking into the shoulder of my shirt. Trying to examine a screaming child is no easy task, but it appeared as if she had cut the inside of her lip, and no more.
How can a tiny being cause your entire being to shatter with fear? Did she hit her head? Did she break her leg? How can I make her stop being scared? How long will my stomach feel like this?
Kids are smarter and more resilient than we think. She milked this one for all it was worth—I ended up sleeping in her bed because she looked up at me with her big eyes and swollen lip and said, “Please, Daddy?”