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“Little girl, can you please keep an eye on your little siblings?” I requested of her as everyone spilled out and began to unload the Doom Buggy 3.0, pulling out plastic tubs, the two family tents and furniture to be assembled.

“Okie dokie, Mama Wen Wen!” she chirped eagerly before herding the Ratajczyk babies off to the playground with Daisy trotting happily at her side.

“Alright now girls, let’s get mommy’s and daddy’s tent up first, and then afterwards, we can set up your tent; does that sound like a plan?” I hashed out as I was unrolling the tent canvas. Elizabeth and Katie were both wrestling with the tent poles, while Peter was doing rough calculations in his head as he eyeballed the family’s two plots of tent space- this year, instead of being next door neighbors, we’d be right across from neighbors.

Twenty minutes later, and the Ratajczyk parents’ grand marquise tent had been pitched, and Peter was inside assembling the bed. The babies would be camping inside in the little “room” that would be separated by a canvas curtain. They would all be tucked into one spacious cot; the room having belonged to big sisters Elizabeth and Katie before they graduated to their Big Girls Tent.

“Okay now girls, do you need any help with your tent?” The girls had a small wedge tent, petite in size and perfect for two regular sized cots and two little trunks to be placed at the foot of each cot.

“I don’t think so mommy,” Katie answered me, wiping sweat from her forehead with her arm.

“Okay then,” I hummed presently, lugging the three empty tubs back over to the big tent to be placed into storage. I grabbed a green Gatorade from the packed cooler and went over to Peter to offer him a quick pick me up. “Hihi my love.”

“Hihi sweetheart.” His handsome face crinkled up in delight as he finished putting the slats in and fitted the mattress onto our bed. “Do you need help making the bed?”

“Not really, no, but feel free to help me!” I told him, smiling as he went into a trunk and came up with freshly washed bedsheets and pillows for the both of us. “Gramacy, my love.”

Peter only smiled at me as he began to help me with the fitted sheet and the flat sheet, leaving me to deal with the pillowcases and the quilted coverlet.

We were both pushing the tubs that had stored the tent canvas underneath the bed when an ear shattering scream rang out from the playground. We both looked at each other before tearing out from our tent, where we both found Baby Mattie and Baby Teddy with scratches on their faces and arms and Tommy with a mauled face and arms. Daisy was barking and snarling as she stood in front of her puppies, the crumpled form of a large breed dog a few feet away.

“I’m a nurse, I’m a nurse!” yelled one of the parents, rushing over as other adults were taking their children away.

“Oh my god, sweet babies!” I cried, my eyes landing on where little girl had herded Baby Noah, Baby Eve and Baby Jojo off to the side.

“Mama Wen Wen, the doggy just came out from nowhere!” little girl said, her voice cracking as tears were rolling down her sweet dimpled face. “Tommy pushed the babies out of the way!”

“Whose dog is this?” Peter thundered, worry and rage making his voice terrifying as someone else said that they were on the phone with 9-1-1.

Tommy’s screaming had since dried down into whimpers as he sat curled into a tight ball, quivering violently from pain as i got down onto my knees and then promptly scooped him into my arms, quietly crooning as I rocked him in my arms.

“It’s alright now, sweet little Tommy,” I promised him as an ambulance was allowed in through the back gate and skidded to a stop. “It’s alright now. You’re in good hand now.”

~xoXox~

“Poor baby,” I winced as the surgeon was describing Tommy’s injuries. Upon arrival at the local hospital, Tommy was rushed into surgery to close the vicious open wounds on his face and arms. I had volunteered some of my mommy blood for him, as how the chubby little six year old man had lost almost half of a pint of blood during the attack. Elizabeth had put the call out for more type O negative blood for her little brother on her Instagram stories, and the hospital blood donation center was flooded with Type O Negative fans and PeteClaire shippers eager to donate for a good cause.

“Yes, well the good news is that once everything has healed up, there won’t be much scarring,” the surgeon told us with a smile. “I also had to get in touch with Child Protection Services about the dog attack, as per law, so they’ll send someone by at some point to do a check in.”

“Sweetheart, animal control has the dog who attacked Tommy,” Peter announced in a hollow tone of voice, tucking his cell phone back into his back pocket. “It is most likely that the dog will be put down and that the owner will face some time behind bars as well as pay a fine. The officer who I talked to told me that we can sue the owner, if we would want. But Tommy and the babies will still need rabies and tetanus vaccines just the same I’m not taking any chances with my boys.”

“Can Tommy be transferred to Mercy’s Memorial in Brooklyn?” I inquired next up. “I have family that can check up on him while we’re here in town, and Peter has a niece who is a doctor there.”

“I do believe so, and I can check in with that,” the surgeon said before leaving with a squeeze to my shoulder.

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