Jammed Fingers

This would be why there isn’t a reasonable blog post today.

Sadly it isn’t the sticky red sort of fingers.  It was the crushed, bruised sort.
It’s put a dampener on the idea of blog posting today.

Before you mistakenly pour your sympathies out to me, as though I were sitting here typing with crushed red digits, it is in fact young Master Oh Waily who was on the receiving end of the finger smooshing.

Poor little blighter wailed like a banshee and for quite some time.  It was a door you see.  Not the usual drawer retracting and catching his fingers, which while sore, was not on the scale of tonight’s event.  A full sized, full weighted door, closed over on his little fingers.  I’d have screamed the house down just as much, if not more, than he did.

He is now “fine” in that he has very sore looking fingertips, but has full motion & use, isn’t fussed by touching or pressing them and has had a dose of baby paracetamol just to keep any leftover throbbing to a minimum.

Once again – poor little blighter.  I hope tomorrow he has a better day.

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2 thoughts on “Jammed Fingers

  1. Poor little dude : ( R has slammed his fingers in a number of doors and drawers around the house and yet it hasn’t deterred him from being a little nosey parker.

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  2. Yes, poor little dude indeed.
    And a very guilty Mum as I was the door closer. 😦

    And no, it has not deterred him from putting his hands in places he shouldn’t. Apparently even finger-crushingly painful events don’t stay imprinted long enough to deter curiosity. How on earth did we make it out of the primordial ooze with that sort of attitude? Good fortune and not common sense by the looks of it. (Oh and a parent who doesn’t smoosh you might’ve helped too.)

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