That's not how it happened in real life.
Oliver woke up this morning miserable. Rightfully so, those pesky molars are still working their way though. I feel for him, I really do but sometimes I just want to tell him to 'suck it up'. Nice, I know.
Our morning was crazy, Oliver refused to nap before the party so by the time we arrived he was beyond cranky. Five minutes into the party, he falls off the picnic bench backwards and lands on the concrete hitting his head. Ryan and I were right there. It seems most of his accidents happen when we are close to him. There was nothing I could do in time - yet it felt like slow motion.
I scooped him up and examined his head. I was pretty sure there was going to be blood or something, but there was nothing; not even a goose egg. My heart was bleeding though. It was pretty broken too.
He got over his injury pretty quickly when he discovered the dinosaur slide. That kept his attention for a good 10 minutes then we were on to explore other things, like goose poop and half eaten hot dogs.
When we got home I put him down for a nap. I couldn't get the sound of his sweet little head hitting the concrete out of my own head, so I snuck into his room with my blanket and pillow and laid next to his crib. I listened to him breathe and I was so thankful that he was alright. I wanted to either crawl into his crib with him or wake him up and hug and hold him, but the smarter me said that I should just 'let him sleep' so that's what I did.