We spent our Christmas Eve in the emergency room. As my Dad said, "these things always happen at the worst time."

Mary slipped on the rug in the kitchen and fell, hitting her cheek on the round drawer pull. The force of the fall caused her cheek to split open under her eye.
The doctor considered stitches because they cut was so wide but thankfully decided to glue the cut closed, instead. (Emma found this quite comical and interesting. I'm going to have to hide the Elmer's next time she get hurt.) Gluing the cut closed means wrapping them up tightly in a blanket, arms pinned beside them, while they apply the glue ("which might sting") to the cut. Then after they are finished applying the glue, she has to stay wrapped until it dries. It was horrible. Thankfully, Dan was at her head, and I was holding her legs, where I had the freedom to cry in shared agony over my daughter's distress.
But, she (we) made it through. She came home, took a three hour nap and we skipped the Christmas Eve service at church, opting for a dress-up dinner instead. (not sure why Mary was sporting a hat at dinner. But I'm sure Emma had something to do with it...)

Now, four days later, she's already picked the glue off her cheek to reveal a tender scar underneath that we are babying with polysporin and vitamin E oil.

More Christmas recap to come later, where I relish in all the wonderful gifts-- given and received, and the good times had by all....