Comrades In Arms
Being crazy 24/7
Our son recently became a member of the club of boys and
girls who have fallen out of the top bunk, jumped out of
trees or off of slides, landed wrong, or regretted a
skateboard trick. I call them our comrades in arms...broken
ones. How David and I eluded this popular circle neither of
us can say. David has scars, I have stitches, but Joshua
has surpassed us both. When I took him to the doctor's
office after the "THUMP" from upstairs, the doctor asked me
with furrowed brow, "He is pretty tough, is he?" I answered
her with a shake of my head. He is like me, who wanted the
epidural on the way TO the hospital. But, sure enough, even
as we drove home from the hospital getting his x-rays, our
pediatrician phoned to tell us he had a fracture in the
radius bone. He would need a cast for 3 weeks. He went with
his friend Jacob, who was spending the night. He got a blue
cast -forearm to fingertips. He can't swim, he can't swing,
he can't do any writing or eating with his dominant hand.
He does, however, enjoy going up to everyone and showing
them his cast. And that is something.