A child is guaranteed to end up in the hospital.
Last time Tom went to Europe, Max visited three hospitals, two ER's, with a bonus ride in an ambulance.
I joked with Tom that he needed to have a stern talk with Max about staying out of the hospital while Dad is out of the country.
Turns out, it wasn't Max I needed to worry about.
Abby was riding her bike down a hill at Capitol Reef National Park today, got out of control, and took the nastiest spill I've ever seen. I was behind her in the car, and my heart stopped. Its one of those terrible images that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
She was covered in blood, screaming and going quickly into shock. We piled her into the van and drove to the Visitor's Center, and they directed us to the clinic in Bicknell, about 20 miles away.
Five stitches in her chin, a wicked case of road rash on her chest, a wrapped elbow, a wrapped knee, too many band-aids and bruises to count, and $330 dollars later, ("No, our policy is to have the patient pay up front and then we'll reimburse you when and if your insurance pays." Like I said a few posts back, its a good thing that our money tree in the backyard is starting to bloom...) Abby is back at the cabin, limping around recovering.
And my husband is no longer allowed to go to Europe on business.