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We all know the rhyme, “Ten little monkeys jumping on the bed, one fell off and broke his head…”

Tonight after work I was just chilling in the garage with my son-in-law when we heard Lily shrieking from the bedroom, then she burst through the door saying, “Olivia!” but nothing much more coherent than that.  “Olivia what?” I asked.  “Olivia hurt!” she gasped.  Then we saw Olivia and it was our turn to gasp.  Her mouth was full of blood, there was blood on her jammies, and as she stood in front of us crying, blood was everywhere!

It seems our little monkey was jumping on the bed, slammed her mouth into the wooden bunk bed frame, and bit an amazing hole in her tongue.  She didn’t bite through it, didn’t bite it off, but there is this huge hole in the center of her tongue.

Once the bleeding stopped (helped by ice and a washcloth), each adult had to remind her that this wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been jumping on the bed.  It hurt to say that to her, but we had to get through to her somehow.

A few minutes ago she went in to wash her face and looked into the mirror.  “Grammy, there’s a big hole in my tongue,” she cried.  (I had hoped she wouldn’t look tonight.  It really looks horrific.  But her mama looked on the Internet and stitching isn’t recommended unless a tongue is practically bitten off.)

So both girls are crashing on the couch watching Despicable Me and trying not to talk.  I know her tongue will still be very sore tomorrow.  But I hope she will remember, “No more monkeys jumping on the bed!”

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