Fab 52. Week 1

IMG_7641fb, originally uploaded by TH.Photography.

Happy New Year: It's going to be a BIG year!

My "baby" shares his word card with his brother while we were outside working on the next photo in this post. I'm sure he just didn't want to miss anything. Either that or he was telling his brother he's big. Ok, so he IS big, but I still don't buy that excuse for plunging through the door!
Every week I'll be sharing my favorite photo(s) from the week, Fab 52. I hope you'll take this journey with me through the next 12 months, 52 weeks and 365 (minus 7) days.
This year my brother decided his nephew needed a knife. I don't know why, something about him being 16 and never owning one. "Looks like stitches to me," was my reply. Fast forward a week, a tickling midnight throat, a succinctly closed PEZ Snowman (99 cents, thank you very much) and a teenager with a new knife. It was kind of him not to want to bother us so late and bandage up his own 'cut.' At breakfast I notice the 'wrap job.'
"What's that?"
"I told you I cut my thumb, but it's ok."
"Sure it's ok?"
"Yeah, Mom, it's fine."
"Ok."
As he passed the syrup I notice what appears to be blood dripping down his thumb from under the athletic tape by which he's secured his little cut.
"Umm, hey Bud, what's all of that?"
"Oh nothing, that's just dried from dripping down, it's not cut that far."
"I think maybe you should unwrap it and let me take a look."
"Oh, MOM."
Unwrapping begins. Driving home ensues.
My son pokes his hand in the middle of the front seat and I look down to my left. Thank goodness I was sitting. I was obviously unprepared for what I was seeing. Noticing my husband carefully avoiding a glance at all costs I tell him to pull over so I can get a closer look. I got out of the car and opened M's door to see him untaping his hand yet again.
"Looks like stitches to me."


There is some good news: he didn't cut it with the knife, but by pulling the plastic that contained the slippery snowman full of candy, there was no nerve damage, he didn't bleed to death and the doctor got a second opinion before stitching him up with several stitches and went in favor of steristrips. We are thankful for the Lord's protection in each incidence. So far, and barely, we've lived through 10 days of no workouts or baseball anything. That's no way to start the new year, but at last it's all behind us now. Let's go, 2011!