The Equalizer

We are excited to report that Lucia suffered a horrible scooter accident the other week. I was not there to see it personally, but eyewitness accounts describe it as an out-of-control high-speed belly flop onto the sidewalk. I imagine it as very NASCAR. Except on a Razor Scooter. And without the smoke, fire and pile-up at the end.

We knew she was banged up, but assumed none the worse for wear, but after she reported to the nurse's office at school in tears two days in a row, we figured it was worthwhile to take her to the doctor (yes, we have a very high bar for medical appointments). A visit to the pediatrician resulted in the following diagnosis: Cracked rib. Hallelujah and Amen!

We were sitting on the edge of catharsis: Lucia had finally out-medical-problemed her brother. Ahhh, sweet, sweet satisfaction. But this was even better, because--from a parenting and care point of view--there is nothing to do about a cracked rib, other than "ooh" and "aah" a lot and get her out of PE for a few days. I'm telling you, it was pure bliss and serenity in our house...if only it would have lasted....

You see--timing being what it is--it turns out that this Crash of Vindication occurred the weekend before Andrew had a minor (read outpatient) surgery. HIPAA regulations (not to mention the Father/Son Bond) prohibit me from sharing any specifics, but suffice it to say, it was serious enough and afforded him considerable attention. Perhaps more concretely, to quantify his recovery against Lucia's cracked rib, he missed two days of school and was given a doctor's note for a month off PE. Sigh.

And so it ends. Lucia's brief contentment snatched away from her once again by her "selfish" brother. I'm telling you, the therapy bills are going to be expensive!

Paul