So on Saturday morning, before all the karate-ness that was happening later, I went into Skip’s room to wake him, and nearly had a small heart attack as he sat up and smiled at me.

There was clearly something wrong with his face – but in my own sleep induced-low caffeine levels I had to blink several times and rushed up close to him to see what the heck was going on.  His one eyebrow was much darker and thicker than the other, and he looked sort of bruised down the one side of his face.

Naturally every scary scenario flew through my head in the few mili-seconds it took me to reach out and grasp his face in  my hands to try and figure out what was going on.

A bloody nose.

Literally, my first baby, had his first nosebleed. His pillow had a huge pool of blood on it, and clearly it had been happening for a few minutes already, which explained the blood encrusted eyebrow and dried blood smears (what I had thought were bruises on first glance), and it was still pouring.

I shrieked for the hubby, who by this time was already up and pfaffing in the garage with spring plungers or some kind of other male tools and bits and pieces that I have no understanding of, and he was so bloody nonchalant about it, saying, oh I used to get these all the time, no big deal, and other stupid things that only dad could say, even if just to annoy the caring mother who was freaking out completely and trying not to show it for the sake of the child who was blissfully unaware of what was going on at all.

I suppose I was hugely thankful that the hubs knew exactly what to do while waiting it for it to stop. Of course I did what comes naturally to me, and got straight onto Twitter where a very kind and helpful Harassed Mom assured me that medical attention would probably not be required and told me that her daughter used to get them often.

Skip did freak out a bit when he caught site of himself in the mirror afterwards, but a warm facecloth soon had him looking normal in no time, and after strict instructions to NOT PICK HIS NOSE AT ALL COSTS for AT LEAST 3 DAYS (exaggeration I know, but it’s a habit of his I’m trying to wean him off), he was fine, and ready to face his karate test (once we’d acquired a new belt of course) later that morning.

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