Well, he's definitely my child

The culprit of this story.

Last night, Jude was being his normal, menacing, toddler self and decided to try to play with the doorbell chimes.  Well, he chimed one of the bells and pulled it so hard that the top part fell off and decked him in the head with it's corner and sliced him a little. He cried, there was blood (which, admittedly, freaked me out a little), but eventually he returned to himself, he had a small bump and a flesh wound.

Look at that flesh wound!

While we're eating dinner and my parents start debating whether or not he needs stitches and if we should take him in, which freaked me out even more, especially when they started talking about their experiences with holding and strapping me down for me to get forehead stitches multiple times. So they're freaking me out and my mum thought he needed a few stitches and we packed him up and headed to Children's Hospital's ER.
We waited there for 2 hours, never got seen, and I gave up, because the more I looked at it, the more I realized he didn't need stitches. Plus, I was getting really irritated, Jude was getting restless and tired, and I didn't want to catch any germs from the massive throng of sick kids that needed to see their pediatricians instead of being there. We came home, cleaned him up, and put a Band-Aid on it. Luckily I bought a box of Toy Story Band-Aids at Target over the weekend with the reasoning that "He's a toddler boy, he's probably going to cut himself one of these days."