My college boy called last night to tell me that his hand had gone into the fryer at work, that it had happened a few hours before, and that it was really starting to "look bad". His dad made the trek to get him and take him to the E.R. where he was treated for 2nd degree burns and may have to see a burn specialist because the burns are so bad over his joints. They gave him and injection for the pain which left him extremely loopy. His dad took him to IHOP where he went through two pots of coffee while Garrett worked on his chemistry assignment that is due at 8 a.m. today. After talking to him on the phone while he was medicated (amongst other things, he asked me how is guinea pig was doing. ......His guinea pig has been residing in a shoe box in the backyard for over 2 years now) I am very curious to see what is grade is on that assignment.
I finally gave in to my eyelids at about 3:20, after the husband texted that "Baby boy is home safely". He is obviously ill-versed in the definition of "home" because all that meant to me was "Baby boy is alone in his dorm."
This is just another reason that I think that children moving away from home, EVER, should be outlawed.
