I broke a bone in my arm.

When Alby was 3 I had the pleasure of spending the morning in Salisbury hospital A&E after he
bashed his leg in something and lost the ability to straighten it. Despite much speculation from all members of the family, quick to offer a sound and robust diagnosis despite bone of us having actually attended medical school in any shape or form, we've still no idea what happened. However, the children's room in A&E was well equipped and the boys had a fun morning exploring the new toys whilst I made lists of all the jobs I needed to do but couldn't because I was stuck in the hospital.

Skip forward three years and a different but strangely similar scene can be witnessed. This time the morning wounded at Salisbury hospital were treated to George and his daddy in A&E. First came the meeting in the side room with the nurse, then the walk to radiography. With Albug this resulted in us discovering that little people have no knee caps. With Smalley we learnt that whilst its very difficult to break little bones - those things are just too pliable, they can crease, bump and buckle.

George  did say he tried to stop himself falling but couldnt. He did say his owwie wouldn't go away. He said he cried and cried. He did protect it, keeping it limp at his side and not trying to use it, not even for a thumb war. He also said he broke a bone, turns out he wasn't quite right but he did fracture it.

Alb's damaged leg went without a diagnosis. For George the x-day showed a bump on the bone, a buckle fracture, and the little dude is now fashioning his own red gizmo/ninja strap (name dependent on how much he feels like being a dinosaur hunter or ninja at any given time).

In some sort of weird twist of logic the red wrist brace has made him think he is invincible and he’s even more daring. The A&E visit was followed by a play date with Albug’s school friends at a local house and gardens. The place is immense and the boys love it as it is home to one of the best adventure playgrounds we’ve ever been too - slides two storeys high, sunken trampolines, boat swings, zip wires and a beautiful Japanese water garden that has proven itself a great spot for hide and seek. Smalley did everything including having a tantrum when I told him he couldn’t dangle from a tree like the other boys.  Back home and he was straight on the trampoline.

For the first few days he hated having to take it off and I was worried he’d be wearing it for life. We have two days left and he now hates putting it on, which shows it must be working!

Whilst we were waiting for the diagnosis my mum messaged, hoping he was well and commenting she couldn’t imagine him in a cast. To be honest, I’m amazed he’s survived this long without it.  He was walking at nine months, a fact that amazes me more now than it did when I was living it, and he’s never slowed.