There is just something about small towns. I was driving down the road yesterday when a firetruck passed on the other side. The windshield said “Protectors of the Village.”
As for this village, we’re definitely not missing our idiot. I had to sit for an hour Monday with Spencer while he had his hand/thumb x-rayed. He fell off his skateboard. In the house. At midnight. Then he comes to bed, says not a word, and goes to sleep. The next morning when I asked why he stayed home from work, he says “I think I hurt my hand.”
Think? You mean the swelling wasn’t confirmation?
They took 3 different x-rays and still can’t tell if it’s broken. The doctor splinted it and plans to take more x-rays next week to see if there is a healing line. Then they’ll cast it. I knew something like this would happen as soon as he bought that damn thing.
This is why I insisted on full protective gear which, of course, he won’t wear in the house because it’s not like he’ll get hurt on the carpet or anything. I love you, you idiot.