It has arrived! Summer! Lazy days at the parks or at the pools. Evening walks with my husband and the dog. Bike rides. Laying on chaise lounges, watching clouds pass by. Sounds delightful! But...and there's always a but...
Summer has, so far, consisted of doctor's appointments for my son and me. Lasik for me, a broken arm for my son. Dreams of the pool...dashed! Bikes rides...dashed! Guitar lessons...dashed! Granted, I know I don't sound sympathetic, which is only partially true. I do feel for him, on one level. I know the discomfort of a cast. However, a broken arm is a hard lesson for him to learn, especially when it's an "I told you so" lesson.
My classroom does not have traditional desks. Instead, we have tables that seat two people. Each time my son is in my room, he asks to walk on the tables. This last time, regardless of how often I told him no, he was determined to walk on the desks. All went well until he tipped one over and landed on his wrist. And now it's broken.
While I'm writing this, he's inside having a pity party. What is it with boys? Why don't they listen to their mothers? Why do they have to find out things the hard (and usually expensive)way? I have this fantasy that he'll learn from this experience, but I know he won't. Instead, he'll remain my lovable, stubborn, and argumentative son, the one who must learn the hard way .
