One Lump or Two?

As Punky's dad was zipping around the kitchen yesterday afternoon trying to pack his lunch for work on second shift, I was doing my own shuffle trying to get Punky's lunch ready for her to eat, and she was busy bouncing off both of us and getting in the way.  Three people swirling in a small kitchen is apparently a recipe for disaster.

I was at the sink with my back turned when I heard her dad suddenly yell, "Look out!"  Then I heard a crack, followed by a scream, and then Punky's unmistakable "that hurt like hell" crying.  When her dad opened the freezer, a frozen three-pound tube of ground meat came flying out and clonked her right in the back of the head.  Luckily it fell sideways and only the end of it clipped her, but it was still enough to cause one hell of a lump within seconds.  What is it about her dad and frozen food head injuries?  Remember the frozen pizza incident?

Anyway, she cried for a few minutes while we gauged the scope of the damage, checked her eyes for proper dilation, and held a frozen bag of corn on the back of her little noggin.  Aside from the lump, she seemed fine so we gave her some tylenol to ward off a headache and continued about business.  

As the day went on, I got a bit nervous when she kept saying she was tired.  I mean, my child doesn't ask to take a nap.  Ever.  Finally, around six, I let her nod off on the couch but I woke her up after fifteen minutes to make sure everything was okay.  She slept another fifteen minutes but then I made her stay up because bed time wasn't all that far away.

I jumped in the shower at eight, and of course she wanted to come with me.  My planned five minute shower turned into a half hour.  By nine she was settled at her little table for a quick snack before bed.  I finally convinced myself that she was fine and I could let her sleep through the night without worrying.  She was her usual bouncy self, and she said her head didn't hurt any more except when I touched her lump.  All was well.

I went into the kitchen for a minute while she was having her snack.  Next thing I know, I hear a loud crack for the second time that day and it was followed by the same heart wrenching cry.  I ran into the living room to find Punky on her knees with her hands over her eyes.  I almost passed out; I can't handle eye stuff one bit.

I feared the worst as I pulled her little fingers away to have a look.  I was relieved to see her eyes were exactly where they were supposed to be, but she had a black line running clear across her forehead with another gigantic lump rising up in the center.  Dammit.

From the black coloring it was easy to deduce that she cracked her head on the end table.  The evidence also pointed to the possibility that she was spinning in circles with a balloon on a string and she managed to get it wrapped around her legs and trip.  At any rate, it led to another round of eye checking, tylenol dosing, and sitting with a popsicle on her forehead for half an hour.  And no sleep for me whatsoever since I kept waking her up intermittently throughout the night to make sure she wasn't unconscious.

So the answer, my friends, is two.  Two lumps.  In the same day.  A mere eight hours apart.  With her history of head bangs, a post like this was long overdue anyway.