It was a sad morning in our house. YaYa woke up and was clearly limping. He had started limping last night when he returned from the neighbor’s house. He’d been running (with doctor permission) and I figured that it was too much – too soon. This morning I thought it would be back to normal. He said that his ankle didn’t hurt but something was not right. In addition to this, he had a stomach ache. Poor guy.
Because of the moving office, I was home from work again. The movers didn’t want the employees in their way and slowing down their work. Because of this, and it being a teacher in-service day, I had the option to take it slow. It was only after I stopped in to give his teacher some papers that he mentioned having twisted his ankle while running across the neighbor’s lawn last night.
Well, he sort of mentioned it; as soon as he said it, he tried to take it back.
“It didn’t happen”, he insisted, “I was only dreaming.”
Dreaming? He slept well, but this was certainly one BAD dream.
I wanted to believe that it had only been a bad dream. I couldn’t take the chance though. He was crying when we returned to the van instead of me dropping him off at daycare. We dropped off BoBo, and then went straight to the Orthopedics Department. I didn’t have an appointment for him and they were short handed due to some yearly conference that most of the Orthopods were attending.