It's never good when your father walks into your workplace and tells you not to freak out.
At about 5:45 tonight my darling son fell off of his scooter and broke his right arm. After dropping Mom and Nick off at the emergency room, Dad came and told me at work what happened. We work for the same place, so he knew right were I was in the building.
What killed me was that I had a half hour before I could punch out. I was in hell waiting to leave so I could go be with him.
He broke both bones in his right forearm. They put a temporary splint on his arm for now. On Monday I'll have to call his pediatrician and find out where they want me to take him for a real cast. They will have to put him out while they straighten his arm the rest of the way.
Being the independent little shit that he is, he insisted that his grandparents take him to their place. He is going to spend the night on the recliner at their place. I guess that saves me from having to wake him up at 5am and draggin him over there. He absolutely refused to come home anyway. I guess he really just takes after me real bad. When I was 4 or 5 I cut my head open real bad and had to have loads of stitches. I refused to go home with my mom that night because I was supposed to be staying over at my grandparents house (which is where I got hurt). I totally insisted on staying with them over night instead of with Mom. Hell when we left the hospital, he wouldn't even let me hold his other arm to make sure he wouldn't fall cause they drugged him up real good. The boy is a shit.
Anyways, just cross your fingers and toes that they don't have to do surgery on him Monday. And give your own lil turdlets a hug if you have any. I'm gonna hit the sack and try to get some sleep.