Having watched my two sports-minded boys grow into
adulthood, and having made more than a few trips to the hospital for broken
bones and an assortment of stitches, performed late night car rescues, and held
bleeding toddlers over the sink so the carpet wasn’t ruined, I have the thick
skin of a veteran parent. My grandson K
was only born 7 months ago and doesn’t particularly care how smart I am, so
when I picked him up after his swan dive face plant into the parking lot and
tried to cover my guilt with “it will be OK, you’re fine,” well, he just wasn’t
buying it.
Perhaps I should explain…
It all started an hour or two before, after we had
successfully gotten both A and K into their Halloween costumes and delivered
them (on time no less!) to a church fall festival party and “Trunk or Treat” in
the parking lot. Trunk or Treat is when folks decorate the
trunks of their cars (some very elaborately decorated BTW) and the kids go from
car to car through the parking lot
collecting candy. A was dressed
in a mini-diva cute pink leopard costume and made her way through the games and
fun in the church social hall under the protective eye of Granny J, while K was
in an adorable monkey suit and hung out with Gramps, who were both sitting
quietly and enjoying the general commotion all around us. At the appointed time everyone poured into
the parking lot and set up the displays in their trunks. We had candy to give away to the kids and
only a set of golf clubs for our trunk, so as A and Granny J went from car to
car collecting candy, Gramps, no creative genius but with a monkey in hand and
an open trunk, put two and two together and soon the “monkey in the trunk” became
quite a popular place among the Trunk or Treat set.
Being good grandparents we took a picture of the monkey in
the trunk, and then another, and as we were looking at the pictures we did not
realize that K was planning his escape. But K can’t walk or even crawl, but he
can move, and he can move fast. And so in an instant he pushed over the lip of
the trunk and was on his way down, head first.
And as I scooped him up and checked him for serious damage with a veteran eye,
he was quiet, and for 2-3 seconds as he gathered his wind he listened as
I told him “it will be OK, you’re fine.” He didn’t buy it; he didn’t buy it AT ALL!!
I tried to reassure K, Granny J and myself that he would be OK. Granny J
would have none of it, and Googled “baby fall” when she wasn’t demanding that I
dial 9-11.
The only thing worse than those next few minutes of K’s
wailing (OK, half hour) were having to call K’s parents later that night and
tell them. “Yeah, out of the trunk…no, no bleeding… but his face is scratched
and bruised…no, he didn’t hit his head… A was great, she sang songs to him in
the car because she said sometimes that helps if he’s upset.”
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| K about to take his nose dive |
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