Pint sized boy, gallon sized bravery

Alby had an unfortunate run in with a plastic cricket bat today resulting in his lip getting split open. There's a nasty wound on the outside of the top lip, cut on the inside top and bottom and bruising on the gums. It happened minutes before I collected him from after school club; I walked in to find him standing pink eyed and pale faced in the toilets, blood on his mouth, chest and knees, with two members of staff doing their best to clean him up.
If it had been me, I would have burst into tears at the sight of my mum. He just stood there, completely still letting them talk and continue cleaning him up. Our GP is in the village, we went there but were referred to the walk in clinic, a quick call to them and we were redirected to A&E.  We stopped home for snacks and supplies and made our way to hospital.
Alby's first words were a whispered: "can I tell Joey that I'm just like him" - referencing his cousin having to go to the hospital this time last year when he split his chin open. By the time we were on the road to the hospital he had not only cracked a smile but started giggling (rather inappropriately really, as we were talking about the time Narna fell off her horse - clearly he has his inherited his father's 'you've-been-framed'-loving genes).  Once at the hospital he ran off to play with the toys.

A big shout out to the NHS for, once again, being bloomin' marvellous. The staff were amazing. The doctor had a brilliant bedside manner and had Alby joking and feeling the hero. The children's A&E (who knew such things existed) was well equipped and had Disney films on repeat. They kept doors locked so George running up and down the corridor laughing manically caused no problem. And Alby played. He was tired and hungry and on nil by mouth until they worked out what to do with him but he took it in his stride. When we finally got home it was late and he didn't fuss or whine or complain. He hasn't once said his mouth hurts. He hasn't cried. He has just been this amazing little, incredibly brave boy.

I'd been having a rubbish day at work and confess even seeing George's face at nursery pick up wasn't  enough to shrug off the leftover emotions and unfinished tasks from the work. One look at Alby however, stoic, solemn and oh so brave, and it was forgotten. And it stayed forgotten until I finally had both boys sleeping. Our children keep us grounded. They act as a constant prompt as to what our priorities should be. And they teach us about patience, forgiveness and bravery. Thank you Alby for being the little super star that you are.

Fingers crossed you are happy when I wake you for breakfast in 4 hours - were nil by mouth from 6am tomorrow morning until the plastic surgeons get a chance to see him!! The life of a five year old is never boring.