When baby number three, my son Oliver, was 6 months old, he rolled off our bed and broke his leg. We didn't know if it was broken at first, but after an excruciating night of sad sad cries and an attempt at changing a diaper, Ben and I decided to take Oliver to the hospital. I called Gabby to see if she could watch our two girls. She said yes.
When we got to her house there was Gabby loading up her car with Oscar (maybe two) and newborn Betty (about six weeks younger than Oliver). She took Madeleine (four) and Ella (almost three), buckled them up, too, and went off to some sort of parent's meeting at the Elementary School.
Seriously. How many people would do that?