Take a cue from something you’ve overheard and write a post inspired by a real-life conversation.
Broken bones mend.
The above topic brings to mind a conversation I overheard between our nine year old son and his friend as they approached our front door on returning home from school. Well you said you liked basketball, and we gotta sign up today if we want to play, why don’t you sign up? I’m gunna, it will be fun. It was our son’s reply that had me instantly stop fuzzing with the cushions on the lounge and plopping onto it instead. Yeah I know, but when I play games, I always end up breaking myself, so I didn’t tell Mum it was sign-up day.
Oh Lord, I had no idea he felt that way, yes both our children had a record of breaking their arms or fingers, and one time our son had broken his nose. This had been explained to them by the Doctors (after, I might add their father and I had satisfied all concerned that they were not abused children), that some children were more accident prone than others and would hopefully grow out of it.
Sitting on the lounge weighting up the pros and cons, do I pretend I didn’t hear them, and keep him closeted safe at home, out of harm’s way, or do I let him be a little boy joining the team and take his chances in the rough and tumble of growing up. Visions of my own childhood on the farm, climbing trees, falling out of them, and off bikes, growing up unhindered and free, flash into my mind.
One doesn’t have to be a Rhodes scholar to know, understand or accept, that we as humans learn basic life lessons by example, trial and error. Shaking my head, I grab my keys, lock the doors and call the children, come on we have to get down to the school, today is the last day to sign up for basketball young man, and I don’t want you to miss out. After assuring him that he had probably gown out of getting broken bones, and if by chance he hadn’t, we would just have to go get it fixed like the other times.
I was treated to the warmest Mummy hug and a grin that was worth the worry I would have to endure every Saturday for the next ten or so years.