I was first introduced to the world of Goose Eggs when Maddie was 2. She was running on the couch and tripped. Her forehead met the corner of the windowsill, like hard. Dude. Her forehead just popped right out. I proceeded to freak out. I was yelling at Darren to call 911, my poor baby had cracked her scull open and this is obviously what a brain bleed looks like. More screaming at Darren ‘This is not a drill, call 911’.

 
I’m sure in Darren’s version of this story I was calling him all the sweet terms of endearment in my vocabulary, but I will deny it.

 
Darren casually walked over and snorted.

 
Fuming people, I.AM.FUMING. Why the frickin’ frick isn’t Flight for Life already here?!?!

 
‘Sarah, it’s just a Goose Egg’

 
A what? I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing. Shut it Schroeder, I’ll call 911 myself.

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