The broken bone… or not?
We had a concern, was it fractured or sprained? In all of our 18 years of parenting, this experience had yet to cross our paths. Sure, we have had our fair share of bumps and bruises. Sure, we have had a child or two whom have had to be on the receiving end of a needle and sutures. The best was when one boy, at 18 months, decided to stick his finger in the sprocket of an exercise bicycle while his sister was peddling it. Our oldest even seemed to approach any church youth event as a challenge to come home with some type of injury. Now, even as a “legal” adult, that objective still remains. Up until this point, though, we had never waited upon the return of an x-ray and a doctor to interpret it.
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| The siblings involved (Joe is not that tall) |
During this short stint of waiting, I began to ponder the result of my son’s evening game of tag in the church parking lot with his junior high youth group, his tumble down the hill and his nonchalant, tough guy attitude that resulted. Well, that’s one less hand for chores and complaints from others whom have to pick up the slack. I was already hearing the whining while the rest of the fam was enjoying our local pool, it is June in Arizona don’t you know? Thank goodness we are on summer break, we have time for his writing hand to heal before schoolwork reoccurs. Oh man, and then there are the showers! Who is going to deal with that?
