Valentine Bubble

I was quite excited for Z's party at school yesterday. I dressed him in his little red outfit, packed up his little valentines, and even brought the cookies for the party.

Then, this happened.

If you can't tell, he busted his bottom lip. I got a picture of him smiling, so it wouldn't look as bad.

Every time I see his school come up on my phone, I momentarily stop breathing. They've called for fever. They've called for vomiting. This time, an accident. To their credit, they usually start with "Z's fine." So, the conversation went like this:

"First of all, Z's fine" (okay, if he's fine then why are you calling me?)
"BUT... he had a little accident."

"Okay, what happened?" (hurry it up)

"He fell off the slide and his lip is cut. They are checking his teeth now." His TEETH, are you kidding me? Why don't you just shoot me? Who's checking his teeth, his dentist, oh wait that can't be because that's ME!

"I'm on my way."

By the time I got there, he really was fine, and his (6 and 1/2) teeth were fine too. I like to exaggerate elaborate for entertainment purposes.