Blood and Onions

I was never meant to be a nurse. I don't like blood. In fact that's a little bit of an understatement. My hypochondrism kicks into double time when there's blood involved. I can almost faint over a paper cut. On myself.

God gave me three sons. There is almost always blood in my house. Someone is always bleeding and always needing me to take care of it. But, I have developed a skill. I have become an expert at treating wounds without ever looking at them. If I look I get light headed. And if I'm lying on the couch fanning myself I'm of no good to anyone. I can almost stitch up a wound without ever seeing it. I'm almost. that. good......

If my sons are not bleeding, they are getting ready to bleed as they explore, discover, create, chop, dig, hide, etc. They love all kinds of activities, but blood must be involved. I really think they like to watch me walk around with my eyes closed. My daughter has the talent to be involved in these things without the blood.

 I wish she would teach her brothers.

The other day they were all four playing outside. They came to the door excitedly yelling that they had discovered onions in the yard. It was insisted upon that I come out and see these amazing yard onions.

I remember the joy of discovery as I pulled up wild onions out of the yard as a child, so I went out to take a look. Much to my surprise these onions were HUGE!! Much bigger than the green onions I buy at the store. The kids were ecstatic. "We're going to find more!" they said as they scampered off. I briefly wondered where they found these tall wild onions. Dan keeps the yard mowed quite short. It was a fleeting thought though, and I just let them go. They were having fun and no one was bleeding....

After their "harvest" they asked if we could eat them. I didn't see any reason why not, except for the dirt on them. I told them to leave them outside and we would ask dad to make sure it was okay to eat large wild onions.

Rylie snuck a few in and washed them in the bathroom while I wasn't looking. I later discovered the pretty white onions on the bathroom floor washed clean. I thought, "Why not? I'll cook them up for the kids in something." No reason to kill the joy of discovery. Right?

A couple hours later my botanist sister came over. She saw our onion harvest and asked me about it. "They're wild onions." I said. She just looked at me. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Well, what else would they be?!" I replied a little indignantly. Like I wouldn't know an onion when I saw one!

"They look a little like daffodil bulbs...." she said slowly. "Daffodil bulbs???" I repeated. "Those look like onions!" "And daffodil bulbs," she said. "What were you going to do with them." "Eat them," I slowly admitted. "Daffodil bulbs are poisonous," she stated.  "I knew that," I lied. "How poisonous?"  "You don't want to eat them," she said.

"Well, maybe they are just really big, wild onions," I said without much confidence. "Kids," I hollered. "Where did you pull up all these wild onions." "In the flower beds," came their quick, happy reply.

"Explains the lack of tall onions in the freshly mown yard...." I thought to myself.

As I sat there looking at the "poisonous onions" that I almost fed to my children, a second thought came through my mind - "My kids just pulled up my daffodils!!!!  I fight the deer all year in my flower beds, and now my kids pull up the only thing the deer won't eat!" (Because they are poisonous, I'm assuming....)  Relief at not poisoning my kids and frustration over pulled up flower bulbs were working side by side in my brain.

My sister suggested I replant the "clean" daffodil bulbs in the chance they would grow again.

"At least it was poison instead of blood this time," I told myself as I gathered up the bulbs.