At Which Point He Passed Out

Jordan.
Oh how I love that child.

He {apparently} has had some type of infection brewing in the nail bed of his finger tip.
For a long time.
Like a long, long time.

Yesterday he didn't look so good.
Felt a lil bit drudgy.
Lil bit pale mixed in with hews of green.

Until round about 11:00 as we are about to eat some lunch he flashes his finger at me and says,
"Mom. This kinda hurts."

It. Was. HUGE.

And green
and hot
and a bundle of nastiness.

We headed to the nearest minor illness urgent care place whereupon the doctor immediatley looks at me and says,
"Why haven't you brought him to the doctor sooner for this?"

Ummm.
Well.
He's 13.
He's a 13 year old boy. 
He doesn't tell me these things,
nor do I expend an inordinate amount of time investigating his fingertips.
Plus
he's Jordan. 
And it's just how he rolls.

They got him all set up to lance it and at the first poke of the needle for the Lidicain
homeslice was out.
He's just like his father.

The men around here are weaksauce.

In Team Joshua bracelet news they are gone
gone like Donkey Kong.
Wow.
You guys are ahhhh-mazing.

Big, GIANT props and thanks to Tina for literally being the hands of Jesus as she beaded and beaded
and mailed
and beaded and...
well.....beaded some more
all in an effort to bring our son home.
She's wicked cool like dat.

I also like saying props and wicked cool and dat. 
It makes me feel
cool
and hip
and jiggy with a variety of things.

I'm off now to inspect all of my children's fingertips for signs of infection.
My life is nothing if not glamorous.