Before I get to that story, though, a little context might be good.
After living here for a year and a half, we are trying to get the bathroom and kitchen walls finished so we can actually put outlet covers and towel racks up. So B2 and B5 have been here nearly every morning (B2 works graveyard and comes by after work) mudding and sanding and keeping D1 fascinated with their pocket flashlights. Meanwhile, the kitchen and full bathroom are just barely usable, their contents are scattered throughout the house, and everything, including D1, is covered with a thick layer of drywall dust. But, it will be done soon! Or so I keep reminding myself.
Since we were hoping to start painting this week, B2 spent the day and well into the night on Saturday working on the kitchen. We went to bed and left him still working. At two in the morning, I heard a soft knock on the bedroom door, and the quiet announcement that B2 had come down sick. Very, very sick.
While I was still trying to figure out what to do about this, DOB, who can sleep through an hour of multiple alarm clocks and spousal abuse, had leaped out of bed, dressed, and gone out to deal with the problem. He took care of it all and drove B2 home. We got back to bed about 4:30, and DOB told me I was on my own with D1 in the morning, as he was sleeping in as long as possible.
In the morning D1 mercifully slept a little late, then I got her up and gave her breakfast. She played around in the dust and I cleaned up what mess was left from the night before, then started exercising. DOB was still sound asleep. D1 started pushing her walker down the hallway, when suddenly she slipped underneath it. I picked her up, reassured her, and set her back down, but she continued to wail. Then I looked down and saw blood spattered on her pajama top.
I quietly called for help. Instantly, DOB was on his feet, staggering down the hallway. When he realized what was wrong, he quickly woke up the rest of the way, assessed the situation (cut lip from her bottom tooth), instructed me on the creation of an ice pack, and called his mom for further advice. D1 didn't really go for an ice pack, nor for chunks of ice. We finally decided to try frozen nectarines, which she took very happily. But by that time the bleeding had stopped anyway, and she had been pretty calm as soon as she was sure we knew the seriousness of the situation.
Not surprisingly, we were a bit late for church. And we were looking forward to a relaxing afternoon at DOB's family's house. After lunch, I tried to put D1 down for her nap, when she suddenly started assuming weird positions and screaming. This not being her usual reaction, even when she doesn't want to take a nap, we began a check for something being wrong. Finally we decided it had to be stomach pain and we started to wonder how contagious B2 had been. She couldn't lie down comfortably, so I rocked her until she fell asleep and then held her there until she had such nap as she could.
She woke up still uncomfortable, but after another half-hour or so it seemed to subside, and she took water and snack and supper cheerfully enough. By the time we had gotten home and done with supper, DOB and I were both thoroughly exhausted, but she was as chipper as ever. We laid down to rest, trying to keep an eye on her, but in an unguarded moment she pulled the nightstand over on top of her.
Fortunately there was no damage. And fortunately by that time it was bedtime. This morning, DOB slept through the alarm for an hour. But then, so did I.