I can remember some time ago when I sent parents into a panic everytime I stepped out the door. Like the time I gave them a heartattack when I came home having been "poisoned" by some tropical fish.
What the Japanese-speaking local probably meant was as poisonous as a bee sting, and it would only hurt me if I happened to have those type of allergies.
Being an eleven-year-old kid from Texas, all I heard was, "Um, this fish poisionous."
Something definitly got lost in translation.
Which is kind of like what happened last night.
Only instead of not understanding Japanese, I couldn't understand screaming three-year-old.
As Robin and I were rounding up the girls to put them to bed, Mikayla decided to run ahead of us and close their bedroom door. Chloe apparently wasn't in on the plan.
So standing in the doorway instead of running in, Chloe got the door slammed on her hand. It closed.
When we opened the door Chloe went nuts. After half an hour of straight screaming and yelling, we went to the emergency room.
I couldn't understand anything Chloe would say. She couldn't understand me asking her to move her fingers.
She held her fingers in a very odd position and they were swollen, so I it looked like it could be dislocated or something.
At midnight we are sent home with an x-ray making us look like every other over reacting parent clogging ER's all over the country.
She woke up this morning like nothing happened. She played like nothing had happened.
Of course, I'm using the word morning loosely. Apparently codeine will make a kid sleep for twelve hours straight.
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1 comment:
That's not overreacting, any time we didn't take you to the e.r. for a possible broken bone -- sure as the world you had something broken. Then we just looked like bad parents.
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