My son was absent on Friday due to a cute injury on his foot. I mean, acute. An acute injury on his foot.
I mean, it was really serious. He couldn't walk AT ALL. He could sort of hobble but it made him whimper, "My foot! Oh, my foot!"
He could crawl. Thank goodness he remembered how to crawl! He could hop on one foot. (The good one, of course.) Although hopping typically resulted in falling which meant, you guessed it, more cute injuries.
He had a bit of luck with a cane.
(Until it broke.)
And a walker.
(Although his brother was not too keen on sharing that.)
We tried to take him for an x-ray to make sure nothing was broken. Because if there's one thing walking around on a broken foot for a whole week in 7th grade because my parents wouldn't believe anyone could break a bone just walking along the balance beam part of the sidewalk taught me, it's that it's better to be safe than sorry (and as Liam pointed out, it's better to be sorry than dead). But wouldn't you know it, right before we left for our doctor's appointment his foot felt "so much better!" In fact, we almost couldn't find the spot that hurt AT ALL. I know. SUCH a relief!
Anyway. With regard to his absence, I take full responsibility. As his mother I should know better than to double-dare him to slide down the slide standing up. Yes, even the really little slide in his baby brother's room. He's just not the kind of kid who can tackle a challenge like that without getting hurt. I know this. And yet - I see a plastic slide and an "extra slidey" pair of socks and I can't help but put two and two together.
Note Finn escaping in the background.
He's always up for a double-dare...
(As you can see, it's really hard for me to come up with anything to write that doesn't involve my big boy. I'll figure it out one of these days...)