Well the weekend was a good one, warm weather (for March in Canada anyway), very little in the way of commitments, and lots of nice family time.  We had a movie night with the kids on Friday, and some goof off time on Saturday before heading to a little party for cousin Ange that evening, whom we haven’t seen in quite some time.  Anyway, all was well, lots of fun and food until some combination of roughhousing and wrestling gave Quinn a nice gash on his head, requiring a swift trip into the Emergency room for a cleanup and some skin glue to close it up.  He’s a tough kid, and barely made a fuss when the nurse and doctor cleaned his head up.  So tough in fact that he was ready to head back to the party afterward, in spite of asking Nikki to drive slower on the bumps since his head hurt.

Anyway, it gave me some perspective on how as I age the same things keep happening, but with notable differences.  In the past, there would have been a party, certainly.  There probably would have been a head gash of some sort, resulting in a trip for stitches.  The cause back then more often that not would have been a McGregor/Robillard altercation of some sort, instead of a Vallentyne/Boileau in this case.  Still, in both cases back to the party none the worse for wear and ready to keep going (whether that was a good idea or not).  This time we decided to take our leave before further injuries added up, but just like before, the van was full of sleeping limp bodies by the time we got home.  Unlike the past, this time I carried a large percentage of them inside the house and put them to bed.  That is simply not done to a sleeping McGregor, for many reasons.  Ask around and you will find that it does not matter which McGregor you are trying to carry, it is not to be done.

Finally, in the morning there was still a hearty greeting of “Hey tough guy, how’s your head?”, only this time from Cael to Quinn instead of an exchange between any of my friends.

So, the more things change, the more they stay the same.