Okay, so DadGuy was installing my new oven (hooray!) and hood Saturday morning. Well, he was fixing the ventilation so it would be up to code, and ended up gauging his arm. So, I say he needs stitches, (seriously, he sliced open his arm to the muscle. It is a gaping hole) but he doesn't want to go get some because he says he's going to be fine. Meanwhile, the man needs to LAY DOWN because he feels like he's gonna faint. (AKA, we need some stitches) But he claims to be fine. He says, if in a couple of hours, it still looks bad, he guesses he'll go to Urgent Care.
So, fast forward a few hours. I clean his arm and the cut is still bad. (Mostly because he needs those dang stitches!) SO, we argue again, and this time says, well, let's wait until the morning because if it is still gross, he'll go to Urgent Care. To which I say, after so many hours, they won't give you stitches.
So we (mostly he) waits til Sunday morning. And his arm is still bleeding. And he now says, maybe I should've got those stitches after all. But now it's too late. So, I go get some skin glue and butterfly bandages from the pharmacy, and we glue him back together. Which finally stopped the bleeding.
So, new house rule. When momma says you need stitches, you're gonna get stitches. Period.
I think it's a good rule.