So at least a month ago The Husband took all three kids sledding on a Saturday afternoon. When they got back, Big K was complaining loudly about whacking her hand and the pain. Oh, the pain. I told her it was probably just a bruise and that it would heal up in a week or so. (I may have rolled my eyes. Not sure about this, but it seems likely.) So she complained on and off about the pain. Oh, the pain. Eventually she wore me down, and I took her to the doctor, who sent us for an x-ray, and then sent us to the orthopedic hand guy, who put a cast on her this morning. Something about a chipped bone and some torn tendons. Oops.
Now, let me just state for the record that the kid is kind of a...hmmm...how shall I say this? Drama Queen. With a capital D and a capital Q. And my general policy of telling the kids to "take an aspirin and call me in the morning" has avoided many unnecessary trips to the doctor over the years. But in this case, it appears I was in error. Motherhood should really come with a manual. And an x-ray machine.
I think the thumbs up means that she's forgiven me. Ahh, it's a butterfly kisses moment.
Hang in there... my dad did this with me, except it was my toe. I ended up on crutches for a month because I was whining about it. :) I forgave him... years later.
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