"Ahhh!" I blurted out. "Gwen, what happened to your eye?"
She had no idea anything was even wrong with it. It didn't hurt or itch or anything, though she may have caused permanent eye damage by trying to look down at her own eyelid to see what was wrong.
I was pretty sure she was having an allergic reaction to something she had touched with her hand and then touched that hand to her eye, but she couldn't recall touching anything out of the ordinary. I called my pro bono health consultants, i.e. Linz, Heidi, and Dan. Linz had had a similar thing happen a month ago and told me to give her Benadryl. Dan said he would come home so that I could take her to the doc, just in case, but first he needed to do some store visits.
By the time he got home, her eye was fine. And I didn't give her Benadryl because I didn't have any. I canceled the doc appointment and was mad at myself for missing the pool over nothing.
Just a couple hours later:
So, moral of the story--my go-to parenting emergency of plan of "do nothing" strikes once again and works.
My parenting book shall be called The Secret (of Parenting) and shall be about the Law of Inaction. Also to be included are chapters covering when to actually change your clothes versus when you can just rub spit-up stains into whatever outfit you are wearing (which I did this week while we were out and about). Also a chapter about fooling your kids into thinking lesser local theme parks are actually Disneyland.
Speaking of theme parks, Dan's office hosted a carnival for all of families of the employees this week.
First, we had to head up to Dan's cubicle so he could print something off and give it to his boss. We gave the kids a talk about being quiet and not interrupting Dad's workplace, and they really took it to heart.
At which point it bounced off of their hearts and into the trash. The were LOUD, and I was stressed.
But after that, we went to the carnival outside in the parking lot.
The girls had a blast.
Dan took Harris on this spinny ride. I cannot do spinny rides. I used to get carsick when I had to ride in the backseat on the way to the grocery store as a kid. I often got to sit toward the front of the car on road trips, which was the sole perk of my condition. One time, I threw up into a canister of cheetos (or whatever the generic brand of that is. Cheese curls? Fake-os? Whatever, they were good.), and my siblings could barely find it in their hearts to forgive me.
Which isn't as bad as the time I threw Mark's little toy car out of the window and we had to go back for it.
Or as bad as the time David accidentally sat on his pb&j sandwich and tormented me with said sandwich the rest of the trip.
Or the time the boys wouldn't tell us their "Black Magic" secret. After years of reflection, I'm pretty sure there was no rhyme or reason to their Black Magic method, and that really ticks me off.
My mom had a rule that we couldn't swim at the pool at Motel 6 on road trips unless we were all quiet for thirty minutes in the car. She's a smart lady. We were a rowdy bunch.
ANYWAY. Why did I go off on that? No spinny rides for me.
I captured this amazing photo of June thoroughly enjoying herself but was unable to get the timing right for Gwen. So here is Gwen behind some really happy kids who are thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Inside the office building was face painting and balloon animals and all that jazz. No, not the musical "Chicago". That would be hardly appropriate for a kids' carnival.
Gwen requested a temporary tattoo on her hand.
When I wasn't around, June requested a temporary tattoo on her belly. And they gave it to her. Amazing.
Harris was too small for the majority of the rides, so he really enjoyed the bowling game that was set up inside. Which is interesting because we have a bowling set and he hasn't touched it once.
And then took our balloons and goody bags and headed to the cafeteria for lunch.
And yes, we went to church this morning.
Action shot of Beck in the swing!
After church, we had Family Home Evening. Dan taught the lesson from the "Come Follow Me" curriculum. Today's lesson was on Paul's call for the Corinthians to be more unified in their congregations. To illustrate, he had the girls complete several tasks with their legs tied together. They started out a jumbled mess on the floor but by the end, they were pretty coordinated! They even knew how to bend over together and picked things up at the same time.
So we are leaving them like that.
And a special surprise in the mail this week. Aunt Carrie took pity on the poor girls losing the Lego Camp contest and sent them a bunch of Lego glasses.
All is right in the world again.