Finish this sentance: 'Zoey was running across the playground when...'

My cell phone rang while I was on my lunch break yesterday.  The name of Zoey's daycare came up on caller ID. 

Fever, vomiting, or head injury?

Head injury.  Black eye, to be more precise.

The all-too-familiar opening line: 'Zoey was running full-steam across the playground when...'  This time, she managed to connect her face with the side of Donovan's skull at a speed of, guessing by the swelling, at least 30 mph.  I promised to run across the street to take a look at the damage.  I love it when these phone calls coincide so easily with my lunch break.

So, I zipped over to daycare and found Zoey waiting in line for the bathroom with a huge ice pack covering the right side of her face.  Ms. Yvonne, the bathroom supervisor, looked grateful I was there, especially as Zoey tripped over her own two feet getting out of line and over to Mommy.  I'm not sure if it was the tripping over the feet or the Mommy sighting that did it, but I could tell it was Game Over for Zoey's day at preschool.  Over.  Done.  Hosed.

I sat down with her to assess the damage.  The entire right side of her face was puffy and a nasty shiner was already forming over and under her eye, halfway down her cheek. 

Me:  Zoey.  Honey.  Tell me what hurts.

Zoey:  *sobbing*  Mommy.  My whole face.  It just hurts.

Me:  No kidding...what does Donovan look like?

Zoey:  I don't know!  (Shooting me a look that says 'Who f***ing cares, lady, could you get me some Tylenol?  I have a little headache here.)

So I collected jacket, artwork, and a child who looked like she had been in a bar fight and headed for the car.  Back to work, so I could at least clear my spot at the lunch table and clock out.

Turns out, a whopper of a black eye is nothing a large ice pack and a dose of Motrin can't handle.  By 4 pm, we were out at the playground and Zoey was happily riding her Dora bike with the neighbor boy.  She was sound asleep by 8 pm and I only woke her up once to make sure she knew who I was and where she was at.  (She was not impressed by this.)  Satisfied she probably wouldn't suffer brain swelling during the night, I was asleep shortly after 9 pm.

This morning, there seems to be a lingering headache and, apparently, the force of the trauma to her head has knocked loose her need to sleep in until 7 am.  6:15!  It's when all the cool kids get up.  And ask for ice packs.