Yesterday I took the kids to Walmart to pick up a few groceries and such. As we were walking through the meat department I was messing around with Clara, as I was in a good mood for a change (the morning sickness is finally starting to wear off!) I was doing that thing where you bend your foot up behind you and 'kick' the person next to you on the bottom. It's hilarious to do it to Jonathan, because he's not quite old enough to know the taps on the bottom must be coming from me, and he dutifully turns around and looks behind him each time I 'kick' him. Clara, on the other hand, knows it has to be me, even though I can usually get her about 6-10 times before she is quick enough to catch me doing it!
Anyway...I was pushing Jonathan in the shopping cart and 'kicking' Clara on the bottom and after a few times she managed to slip as she tried to get away from me. She fell and somehow managed to get her thumb caught up in the wheel of the shopping cart -- the one with the little stoppers they put on them now to prevent shopping cart theft. I don't think I ran over her thumb, but I am certain that her thumb came into contact with that wheel in some way and the outermost layer of skin was scraped back a little. We're not talking any blood or anything, but it certainly had to hurt. She cried, I hugged her, apologized, suggested we not mess around anymore in Walmart, and promised a Band-aid once we got home.
Once we got home and washed up her hand, added a little neosporin and a Sesame Street Band-aid (one for Jonathan, too) - all was good as new. Clara was proud of her battle scar and couldn't wait for her friends to ask her what happened to her thumb!
A while later Clara headed outside and down the street in search of friends to play with. She came back and informed me that she had told Mrs. Sarah what had happened to her thumb, "She didn't ask me, but I told her anyway." It wasn't until then that it occured to me just what the story was going to sound like coming from Clara. Sure enough, later in the evening I had the chance to overhear Clara tell another neighbor how it happened, "My mom and I were kicking each other and I fell down and she ran over my thumb." And again over dinner as she told the same story to Chris...I was laughing so hard tears came to my eyes as Chris inquired for more information. It's all a matter of perspective.
3 comments:
Oh, yeah!! Just wait. I'll be spending some time with Clara come this summer and I'll hear all the stories. Don't forget--I've got pictures. I know how mistreated and deprived these children are---NOT!!!!!!
When my niece was little my sister was holding here hand walking through the grocery store. She was throwing a fit and not wanting to shop so my sister was holding her hand tightly to keep her from running off. When my sister stopped my niece decided to throw herself to the floor. This move broke her arm. Whenever anyone saw her cast and asked what happened she would plainly and frankly say "Mommy broke it".
Before I was married my mother had Foster Children from the Baltimore City Welfare Department. We had these children brought to our house when they would normally be taken home from the hospital after birth. One little boy, Richard, we had for five years. He used to like to sit on the washing machince when it was spinning. One day he pulled a chair over to the washer--they didn't stop spinning then when you lifted the top--and he lifted the top and stuck his arm it, and sure enough broke it. My mother was sure she was going to jail, especially when Richard whould say, "Mommy put me in the washer." Mom was sure she was going to rot in jail for child abuse and neglect. She was scared to death.
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