Dog bites boy.

There was a coffee the other night. I didn't really want to go but figured that I might as well for appearance's sake. I can always start getting lazy later in the year. But I'm not stupid. I also opted to take Munchkin with me so that I could use him as an excuse to make an early getaway if needed.

But maybe I shouldn't have briefed him on that plan.

The hostess has the sweetest dog ever. A mutt of such wondrous temperament that my kid was all over him and he didn't say boo. I'm guessing he decided that he was willing to exchange his patience for the Fritos my son so magnaminously continued to feed him.

And all was well, and very, very cute, until we got down to the last Frito on Munchkin's plate.

Munchkin was going to feed it, just like most of the others, to the dog. But then the boy realized that it was the last and final Frito. So at the last minute, just at the moment that he would have let go of the Frito for the dog to swallow, my son changed his mind. He held on to the Frito. He was still holding it when the other kids yelled for me to come running because he was bleeding.

The dog didn't mean to bite him. He meant to partake of the Frito-y goodness. A boy's small finger just happened to get in the way.

So, to the ER we went. And though I got to leave the party early, we didn't get out of the ER before midnight. And so it goes.

Munchkin is fine. He was fine by the time we got to the hospital. Sure, he'll lose the fingernail, most likely, and have to drink copious amounts of Augmentin for the next few days, but he's back to his wild man self.

The worst part, seriously, is all of the phone calls I'm getting today from concerned ladies. You'd have thought that my son was dragged off by a wild bear. I just want to get the boy down for a nap, you know, because he's exhausted from the poking and prodding, and the phone won't stop ringing.

Dog bites boy. Guess we all need some excitement now and again.