

Some days (or weeks) it just doesn't pay to get out of bed, you know? Doesn't it seem that accidents usually happen at the worse possible time?
Wednesday my 5-year-old was in the chicken coop playing with the hens, like he always does. My older son and I were working in the garden and my daughter was taking some vegetables inside when we heard Adam, 5, start crying - one of those hurt cries. He came out of the coop, diligently remembering even in his pain to close the door behind him. He was holding a hand over his left eye when my older son and I reached him. I pulled his hand away and his eye was swimming in blood - you couldn't even see the pupil.
I can stay pretty calm during an emergency, but I can't say the same for my 12-year-old son, who started screaming. I had to very sternly say his name and give him a dirty look to get him to stop screaming. Then I calmly asked Adam what had happened. He had picked up one the hens, who had in turn decided to peck his eye out!
I picked up my "baby" and carried him inside. Still crying, he grabbed the door frame when I tried to go in. "No mommy, I'm still wearing my chicken shoes," he sobbed. I have taught the kids that the shoes on the back porch that they wear into the coop should not then also be worn in the house.
At that moment I didn't care, but he did, so I quickly tossed his shoes off. Once we got the eye flushed out with water and could see more clearly, it was evident that it had looked worse than it was. The hen had somehow actually grabbed his lower lid, causing a cut both on the outside and inside of the lower lid. Thankfully, the eyeball itself was untouched and he is fine.
But have you ever tried to explain to a nurse on the phone that a chicken pecked your kindergartner in the eye? The nurse freaked out more than I did and insisted I bring him in right away. Then I had to explain to the receptionist, then to the assessment nurse, then to the pediatrician, that Adam has been pecked in the eye by a chicken.
We live in the city, remember? Chickens are not common. Neither are eye peckings, apparently. Reactions ranged from looks of disapproval (or maybe my guilt complex imagined those), to horror, to laughter, to shock.
Even the pharmacist got in on it.
PHARMACIST: I see your son has been prescribed an antibiotic for his eye. Does he have pink eye?
ME: No.
PHARMACIST (with a perplexed look): Well, why would he need an eye antibiotic then?
ME: He got pecked in the eye by a chicken. They were worried about bacteria.
PHARMACIST (with mouth hanging open): Are you serious? By a chicken? In the eye? Are you joking? (And then, seeing my deadpan face): Oh, is he okay?
ME: He's fine. (snatches prescription and leaves).
Sometimes it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.


























