This time around, I learn my lesson. I listen to KK.
In the dark bedroom, Lu hits her head on an edge and bawls, I rub the area fully expecting just a bump to form, nothing forms after a few minutes, I pull my hands away and then I see the splotches of blood on her bedspread.
Lu, OK by now, is puzzled by the blood: Huh? Are you having your period, mama?
I know I didn’t sit anywhere on the spot and anyway I wasn’t having my period.
I realize the blood came from her head.
I put a towel on the spot and it comes away red. The water I dip the towel in turns brown and the metallic smell of blood wafts up. Now, she panics. “I smell so much blood, mama!” she wails.
KK glares at her. He says, why were you so careless, Lulu.
I am aghast at his callousness, and wonder if she needs stitches.
Don’t be ridiculous, KK intones. He asks Lu a few questions: What’s your name? How old are you? What is 6+4? (er she answers correctly)
Then he orders me to go and wash away the blood from her hair and apply Zambuk (just like in 2010) in case there’s a bump.
I follow instructions.
The shower clears the messy clot of blood and hair in seconds and the wound is revealed: All that blood came from a 1cm streak which is dark red and no longer bleeding.
I put on the Zambuk and then spend a good 10 minutes combing out her wet hair and clearing hair stuck to the wound. She is half asleep by then, and cries because she dirtied her nice, new quilt.