I thought he broke something…

So I’m at my mother’s house to pick up the boy. He wants to do his last rounds on his bike around the small street and up the driveway. I turn away to start to gather his things and on his last round, he falls right on the concrete, with the bike landing on him.

He begins to cry and I run down the driveway and realize the bike has his leg twisted at the knee and he’s scraped up. I get the bike off him and straighten him up. The whole time my mother is screaming at me from a few feet behind me. I got to him quicker because she twisted her own knee last week and uses a cane and moves slower.

At this point, she is screaming “what happened!”. And I mean SCREAMING it.

These are the thoughts that ran through my head during those moments.

1) “Why the HELL his my mother screaming?” 

In a situation like this I prefer to not panic. I prefer to assess the situation then more forward with whatever panic might be necessary. However, I still refrain from panicking because it will frighten the child. Especially if  it was something serious, like a broken leg.

2) “Wow, his leg is twisted in a very awkward way.” I did think, for a split second, that it was broken. And skating/hockey lessons would be put to an incredible halt.

And lastly, 3) “Seriously, for the love of all that is good and holy why is my mother SCREAMING!?” Nothing annoyed me more about this situation than that. *sigh*  I now have my mother on my list of people I do not want on my survival team when the Zombie Apocalypse hits. Panic is not a good characteristic to have in a crisis.

The boy is fine. Oh he milked his “injury” (which turned out to be nothing but a scraped up knee) and he even donned a pair of crutches to hobble on.  But I told him to suck it up. Well I didn’t say it that way but in all honesty, if he wants to play a sport like Hockey, he’s gonna have to just plain and simple, suck it up. Especially, for scraps and bruises. Now if something had broken…that would be a whole different ball of wax. But that is not the case.

Signed, The mother who says “get up, you’re fine”


One thought on “I thought he broke something…

  1. I have a great big hulking twelve year old son who is as soft as butter and will cry if his mother looks worried when he falls. He takes all his cues from her, and yet she wants me to ‘toughen him up’. He is five feet eight inches tall already and looks about fifteen by his build, yet look closely and you see a very large little boy. His mother would panic, just as your mother did in similar circumstances and he would be frightened in turn. He has a five year old brother who will ignore scratches, scrapes and small amounts of blood to his brother’s chagrin. Slowly, bit by bit the big one is learning from the little one. 🙂

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