They say your instincts take over when you’re faced with an intense situation. 

My instinct when Rustyn walked in the house screaming, with blood streaming down his leg? Call Brad and then text the one doctor and one nurse in my contact list with photos and “Does this need stitches?”
After the swelling went down, Uncle Adam and daddy determined they could clean it and disinfect it and butterfly it and call it good (which, really, I think it is, though it may not be pretty in the end).

If chicks do indeed dig scars, they’ll love this kid… 


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