Cathy in the Wright

Of An Opera And An Accident...

Today's post will address the following parenting issue: What is the best way to handle a bicycle accident in which your five-year-old falls and sustains a laceration? But first...

I hate surprises. Hate 'em! Did you get it?! Did you achieve syndication nirvana? Tell me! I can't wait!

Okay, back to Parenting Emergencies 101. Your young son, who just learned how to ride a bike without training wheels, falls on the driveway and sustains a cut just off the eyebrow. Blood gushes. He screams. Do you:

A) Holler at him to hold still while the dog licks it clean, slap a strip of duct tape over the wound, and tell him to get back on his bike and quit the whining?

B) Call 911. Demand two ambulances and a helicopter. Threaten to sue hospital if top-notch Hollywood plastic surgeon to the stars is not flown in immediately to assure best possible scar outcome.

C) Choose this evening to go to the opera. Let babysitting grandparents handle entire mess. Come home only after son has been treated, release, and tucked in bed.

The answer is, of course, C. Although nobody in Outpost country would look askance at you if you chose option A.

The VP and I attended Mozart's The Magic Flute last night. It was a great performance. The woman who played the Night Queen gave me goosebumps; she had an incredible voice.

Since The VP and I don't get out to these hoity-toity affairs too often, I took advantage of the intermission to people-watch and gather information on the latest in fashion and etiquette. Here's what I learned:

Wearing a polo shirt, shorts, and sandals is acceptable male attire for weekday opera, and it is especially striking if one sports an enormous paunch as well.

Covering your mouth when you yawn is no longer considered a hallmark of good manners.

Opera-goers are under no obligation to pick up their empty plates and cups and dispose of them in any one of the dozens of convenient trash receptacles.

Thick-soled, chunky clogs are allowed with the classic "little black dress" when it is raining outside. But only before Memorial Day I am told.

When wearing perfume for evening opera, it is better to over-apply rather than run the risk that someone in the third-tier balcony cannot smell you from the orchestra pit.

I had dozens of other observations but if Nana is reading this, she's pulling Buppa's hair out right now and shouting, "What about my grandson who got hurt?!"

Sorry. Back to the cut. The Green Goddess (my mom) was babysitting the boys for the night. The Senator wanted to show-off his new prowess on the bike and fell on the driveway. Unfortunately, neither his helmet or his glasses stopped him from getting an inch-long cut near the side of his eye. (The glasses may have been the culprit more than the driveway.) Grandma bundled both boys in the car and headed to the ER. Grandpa drove out and met them at the hospital and took charge of The Governor. The Senator received, and not gracefully I might add, 4-5 stitches. He was deposited back into the care of Grandma who then brought him home and tucked him in bed. The drama was all over by the time The VP and I got home.

People are always admiring me for my nerves of steel and my calm, collected manner in the midst of an emergency. It's a simple matter of assessing your options and choosing the best one, I tell them.

Posted by Cathy at May 20, 2004 10:36 AM