Well, you just never know what a day will bring forth.
Yesterday Mike called me on my cell phone and, in his I'm-really-trying-to-sound-nonchalant voice said, "Hi Mom. The good news is that I'm OK. The bad news is I might need a few stitches." Mike works on a framing crew so we pray for his safety every day, and it's a good thing. He was standing on the rafters (9 feet above the concrete slab) when his right foot slipped. And he had a nail gun in his hand. Now, Mike is a smart guy and thinks pretty quickly, so when he felt his foot slipping his first thought was to tuck so his arms wouldn't get ripped off on the way down. Tuck he did, and the nail gun tucked with him. Somehow he managed to smash himself on the top of the head with the back end of it - much better than the front end, but still painful. And somehow he caught himself with his shoulders wedged between roof rafters. I feel sure there was an angel there to catch him. So here he is, reclining along the roof, sitting on the top of the wall, blood spurting out of the top of his head, still unwilling to drop the nail gun (those things are expensive, you know), stars spinning like when Wile E. Coyote gets smacked with a cannonball, and Butch yelling, "Hang on Mike! I'm gettin' a ladder!" Yep. He needed a few stitches, or rather staples. Those gadgets are pretty cool - they look just like those cute little staplers we used to get for school, remember? Mike was bummed because now he has a very small bald spot with three staples sticking out, but I cheered him up with the thought that if he ever does go bald up there, he'll have some great scars. Aren't I encouraging?
Thought for the day: If he'd turned the nail gun around, he could have bashed his head open and fixed it all in one smooth move.
Be thankful ~