The phone call

Last night we went out for dinner with some good friends of ours. Zach was in charge of the herd of men.

About an hour into dinner, Paul got "the phone call" -- here is what I heard of the conversation:

Paul: Hello?

(short pause)

Paul: Yeah.

(10 second pause)


They are asking for permission to do something I bet.

Paul: What happened?

Crap. Something happened. Do we have to go home now? Zayd and Evan are probably fighting and Zach can't control them.

Paul: On his finger?

Ooooo. Not a fight - a finger...  

Paul: Is he crying?

Dang kids - it's a burn! Are they cooking? They are SO going to get it from me.

Paul: Is it blue?

Whew - not a burn. Must have slammed a finger in the door.

Paul: Yes. Put it under some cold water. That should help soothe it.

Cold water? For a finger in the door? What the?

Paul: So, where did he find thread?


Thread? Wait. What? Thread? 

Paul: How did you get it off?

Najla. Inventory time: thread, finger, blue, off... hmmm... 

Paul: What was he DOING?

Ethan. I should have known. 

Paul: Okay. Call back if it doesn't look better.

He hangs up.

Me: What happened?

Paul: Oh, Ethan wrapped a piece of thread around the tip of his finger and it swelled up pretty bad, turned blue and he couldn't get it off...

Me: Oh geez...

Paul: It's okay now. They got it off and he stopped crying...

Me: Yeah, but what about his finger?

Laurie (my friend): Aaaaa... finger shminger... It's just a fingertip. He doesn't even need it.