Seems I neglected to report a story on here.
So Sunday night, as usual, the boy goes across the street to play some shinny hockey. I tend to take this time to watch girly shows and take over the couch.
Half hour after he leaves, he comes back in the door.
There's a green towel up against his mouth and the first thing he says is "Uhh... you gotta take me to the hospital."
Being the concerned girlfriend I am, I freak out a little.
Seems he got a puck to the mouth and it was completely split open with a lovely hole to the other side. Blood everywhere. Yum.
And so, to the hospital we went.
5.5 hours later, he was stitched up and sent home. (But not before all the crazies got in to see the Doc before him).
Don't look so surprised, ya goon!