Mardi, le père livide de ma progéniture vient m'annoncer qu'un de nos fils est passé à travers une fenêtre. Je vole aux urgences d'un petit hôpital de la campagne. Un après-midi aux urgences, beaucoup de sang sur son bras et (seulement) 19 points de suture.
Mercredi, je borde mon auguste père et mon frère, de retour de la Réunion. Papa prend des anticoagulants mais ne met pas de pansement sur ses écorchures.
L'eau oxygénée est ma meilleure amie.
It was a bloody week.
Thursday, a deadly pale father of my kids went and told me one of our sons fell through a window. I fly to the hospital on the countryside. An afternoon spent in an emergency service, much blood on his arm and (only) 19 stitches.
Wednesday, I put my father and my brother to bed, coming back from la Réunion. Dad takes anticoagulant but never put a band aid on his scrapes.
Hydrogen peroxyde is my best friend.
L'eau oxygénée est ma meilleure amie.
It was a bloody week.
Thursday, a deadly pale father of my kids went and told me one of our sons fell through a window. I fly to the hospital on the countryside. An afternoon spent in an emergency service, much blood on his arm and (only) 19 stitches.
Wednesday, I put my father and my brother to bed, coming back from la Réunion. Dad takes anticoagulant but never put a band aid on his scrapes.
Hydrogen peroxyde is my best friend.
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