Fire pit

I was away with some friends for an overnight trip last weekend.  Before I left, we were joking around about Ryan's propensity to hurt himself, so I turned and said to Emma, "If Daddy hurts himself while I am away, you should call and tell me."  Ryan insisted that she shouldn't, and he would pay her for her silence.  

Well, midway though Saturday I pulled out my cell phone to call and check on my family.  Ryan picked up the phone and demanded, "Did Emma call you?"  

"No.  I was calling because I hadn't heard from you in a while.  Just wanted to see how the kids were doing.  What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Whatever.  What's going on?  Why would Emma have called me?"

"I hurt myself."

Ryan had told me earlier he wanted to build a fire pit.  He had invited the other husbands and children of the ladies I went with (and the missionaries) for a hot dog dinner that night, and he wanted a fire pit to roast those hot dogs.  In the process of building it, one of the bricks smashed his right thumb so hard it split his nail and sprayed blood into his face.  It had been bleeding a ton, and hurt too much to apply pressure, but it was finally slowing down.

But the girls all were doing a good job taking care of him.  Maddie told him she's be his "mom."

I had to laugh at my "mom sense" that prompted me to call home 15 minutes after the accident.  

In any case, Ryan is doing fine.  His thumb nail is pretty gnarly looking, and catches on everything.  We are taking bets on how long his nail stays attached to his thumb.

Also, the fire pit works really nicely.  It cooked up a nice dinner for all the dads, kids and missionaries, and we've used it once this week for us.  Ryan butterflied the two remaining home-butchered roosters and made them for dinner last Wednesday.  We also threw on some potatoes, and made banana boats for dessert.

We also tried hard boiling eggs in paper cups.  It worked!