On Thursday Kate had an accidental altercation with the van's trunk door. The door won, of course, and Kate's left hand had a big owie. Because I'm not an alarmist, and because my schedule was crazy that day, and because Kate really needed a nap, and maybe because I'm a bad mother, I consciously put five hours between her injury and the doctor's office. I'm a fan of the watch-and-wait approach, unless it comes to my own insane reactions to medications (pun intended) and I'm vomiting or passed out on the floor.
I opted for cheap[er] and asked my peds office to work me in instead of walking into Urgent Care down the hall. As we sat and waited, I pondered the irony of Kate possibly being the first Bartle child with a broken bone.
Fortunately, she did not snatch the honor from her siblings. She's not broken after all. Just a little swollen and bruised.
Isn't she charming?