He's been knocked out, cut open, screwed around with...[two screws in his tibia], stitched up, splint casted. He's been woken up, temperature taken, blood pressure checked and bugged about how much does it hurt.
He' practicing sword/crutch moves.
That's my boy.
But his summer is screwed up. No swimming. Hmm. I wonder if he could swim in a fiberglass cast? We'll find out in two weeks.
We get home and a: the car falls apart again and b: the house is again spewing sewage. I gave up and called a plumber. First guy calls back and tells me he's too busy. Argh.
Sooooo.... universe... is it time to flip over and give up the phenomenal good luck lurking? I mean, it would only be fair.
When it starts raining gold coins I'll be the one running around with the hard-hat, wheelbarrow and a shovel!
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