Saturday, September 4, 2010


Mommy, Bean and Goobs are having an adventure. They are going to visit a new library with their friends Mary and her daughter Miss C. They have not been to this particular library and rumor has it that there is a great little playground nearby.

They arrive at the library and Bean and Miss C are having a great time in the kids area playing with puzzles. Mommy has to go and ruin it by making Bean take a potty break since he hasn't had one for a few hours.
They go into the bathroom while Mary and Miss C watch Goobs. Bean begins his "Mommy I don't have to go" routine, which Mommy isn't buying because he is dancing all over the place. Mommy finally gets him to go tinkle and they wash their hands and leave the bathroom. On the way out the bathroom door, Mommy turns her back and thinks that Bean is out of the bathroom. Most of Bean is out of the bathroom, except for the 4 finger that left between the door and the door frame.

Bean: (Screaming a real scream that sends chills down Mommy's spine) "Mommy! Mommy! Help! My fingers!"

Mommy: (Completely panicked as she can see his fingers stuck and knows that the door is very
heavy and can only imagine what it is doing to her poor little baby's hand) "Oh Bean! Hold on! Oh Baby."

Wailing and screaming ensues. Bean is completely inconsolable. He is crying and screaming at the same time. He refuses to let Mommy look at his hand, but she can see that the fingers are turning black and blue and are swelling. Mommy rushes to tell Mary what happened, since she still has Goobs and then takes Bean outside to try and assess the situation. He WILL NOT STOP CRYING. This starts to scare Mommy because usually when Bean gets hurt, he cries briefly and then finds something more interesting to talk about. No matter what Mommy and Mary try, they can't get him to stop crying. Mommy calls the pediatrician and she suggests that Mommy bring Bean in to seem them. Mommy is putting Bean in the car seat and the sheer sadness and pain in his voice makes Mommy start to cry. Luckily for Mommy, her friend Mary pretends to not notice blubbering Mommy and puts Goobs in the van for her.

So they drive to the doctor. Crying. The whole lot of them.

Bean: "Mommy, I don't want to go to the doctor (sniff sniff). I don't want to go."

Mommy: "Bean, honey, I know you don't want to go but you need to make sure your fingers aren't broken or anything."

Wrong choice of words Mommy.

Bean: "What do you mean broken Mommy? Mommy! I don't want to go to the  doctor Mommy."
(Bean's crying turns to a dull whimper.) "Mommy my fingers don't hurt anymore."

Mommy: (Very suspicious of this because the fingers looked pretty sore and she isn't so sure he is telling the truth) "Bean, are you saying that because it is true or are you saying that because you don't want to go to the doctor?"

Bean: (Incapable of willfully lying because he is three and he doesn't understand the concept of deception yet) "Because I don't want to go to the Dr. Mommy!"

Bean begins to cry again continues to wail all the way to the doctor's office, in the waiting room and the in the exam room as they wait for the doctor to come in. At this point Mommy assumes that if he has been crying this much his fingers surely must be broken.

The doctor comes into the exam and immediately Bean stops crying. Not just quiets down, and whimpers a little but completely ceases crying. No tears. No sad face. Nothing. No indication what so ever of the tragedy that just occurred and that he had been wailing about for the past 30 minutes.

Dr. G: "So, what seems to be the problem here today?"

Bean: "Well Dr. G. I seem to have pinched my fingers in the bathroom door at the new library. You see, Mommy and Goobs and Me went to a new library and my fingers got pinched in the door. It was a very heavy door."

Mommy's jaw drops to the floor. This kid is something else. Is it possible that he isn't as hurt as a she thought? Is it possible that her little boy was being a drama queen? Mommy is astounded. Here is Bean. Talking to the doctor very matter-of-factly as if he is telling her about a new ice cream flavor he has tried.

Dr. G:  (With a huge smirk on her face because, let's face it, the way Bean talks is a little ridiculous for a three year old) "OK, well let's just take a look at those fingers."

Bean: (Hold his hand up for the doctor) "Oh, sure."

Oh sure? Oh sure! He wouldn't even let Mommy within two feet of those fingers and now he says 'Oh sure' to the doctor.

Dr. G: (The doctor takes his hand and begins bending and moving the fingers. Bean sits absolutely still.) "Well, things look pretty good. Can you bend them for me?"

Bean: "Well, I think I'm just going to think about something else right now."

Doctor: (Continues bending and squeezing Bean's fingers) "OK, what are you thinking about?  Are you thinking about...hamburgers?"

Bean: "No, I'm not thinking about hamburgers, but I do like to get Indian Chicken when we go to Wegmans for dinner. Daddy likes burritos. Daddy always gets a burrito when we go to Wegmans for dinner."

At this point Mommy is no longer worried that the boy's fingers are broken. The doctor laughs out loud and tells Mommy that he should be fine. The doctor then tells Mommy to give him some ibuprofen for the pain and to just watch and make sure he is using the hand. Then the doctor leaves the room.

Mommy gets Bean and a Goobs together and they leave the room. On the way out, they see Dr. G.

Bean: "By Dr. G. Thanks. Actually Dr. G. I think I like Tylenol better than I-du-profin, so I'll just take that for my fingers.

Dr. G: "OK, that will be fine as well. Have a good day."

Bean: "Bye. Have a good day."

So, yeah, the fingers are fine. And Bean had a really great story to tell Daddy when he got home from work.


  1. Glad it all worked out!!

    And welcome to TMC!! Glad you joined us!

  2. Glad his fingers were okay, and sorry you had to go through all that (but thanks for sharing & the laughs!

  3. Oh, goodness... poor kid and poor mama... I hate it when mine cry like that -- so hard to tell what's going on. And they ALWAYS pull the "No, no! Don't loo at it! You'll hurt me!" thing.