Tell Him your plans.
I had this nice feast day planned out and spent the better part of the day in the kitchen. Then, shortly before dinner, Gabe gets himself into a narrow weed-eater box and tips over--falls like timber--onto the concrete floor of the schoolroom. Big bump on the head.
I don't worry too much, after all, cinder-block heads kind of fun in the family. But when Gabe said he was dizzy whenever he got up, I thought it might need to be looked at. So Bret wolfed down a bowl of curry, declared it good, and left for the ER 30 minutes away. The rest of us ate in their absence and had a cup of decaf chai afterward.
He passed the little tests the doctor gave him and came home with a list of things to look out for, and he will sleep in our room tonight. I figured as much. A bit after Bret and Gabriel had left, we spotted a big rainbow outside.
How is Gabe doing? Sorry to hear about his accident.
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