Zac and I were in the backyard discussing landscaping and Simon was at the pond playing with a few other neighbor kids. Suddenly, he ran up the backyard frantically to the house, sort of crying but not really explaining. A moment later he opened the deck door screaming for help, and we ran up to see what was the matter. It turns out he'd torn the back of his hand open on a rock or piece of glass (he doesn't know) at the pond. The wound seemed wide enough to warrant stitches, so we bandaged it up as best we could and Zac drove him to the urgent care. I stayed home and cleaned up the bloody mess he'd left everywhere that made our house look like a crime scene. (Apparently he thought he could just put a bandaid on it, but so much blood was gushing out that he couldn't, and that's when he called for help.)
