When Living In Your Favorite City Sucks

Early this morning I got a text from my uncle wishing me a happy birthday, since I was awake I decided to check my email (for selfish reasons of course to see who might be sending me birthday wishes) and I had a facebook post from my sister.  In it she wrote that my nephew Cameron, he's 3, burnt his hand on the chiminea last night and had to go to the ER.  While in the ER he was crying "I want Auntie! I want Auntie!" and I wasn't there.  Just thinking about that now makes my eyes tear up.  Cameron is 100% boy in everything he does and has visited the ER more than my sister wishes.  The 1st couple times we're actually due to him spiking high fevers as a baby but the last time was last summer and he was running across the back yard and flipping into the kiddie pool.  Well this one time he slipped on the wet grass and hit his cheek on a slab of stone.  Would you believe that when we got him in the car, in fear of him needing stitches, I put a small bandaid on it and he didn't cry the entire ride to the hospital.  He is a trooper!  I haven't spoken to my sister yet since it's still "dark o-thirty" in Massachusetts but she told me that he has 2nd degree burns and his hand is wrapped up but he's trucking along.  What makes me so sad is that I couldn't be there for him.  I have actually been there for every trip to the hospital.  That my friends is when living in your favorite city sucks the worst...when it's 3500 miles away from home!

Me and the Cam-Man last Christmas playing with Photobooth