It is summertime. A time for playing in the sun, having picnics, running, falling, breaking, bleeding, and crying. Well, at least if you live in a household with this many boys who have been cooped up all winter long (and a mother who finds humor in people falling down). I think we've had about 10 days of sunshine so far and have already had a kid fall in a storm drain up to his knee, another bit by a dog in the face, a concussion, and innumerable cuts and bruises. So I say "Bring on the Sunshine, Bring on the Pain".
Spencer is my tough kid. I never know when he is hurt, or diseased, or infected because he never complains! He has had 2 ruptured eardrums, pneumonia without me knowing until his eardrum burst and then took him to the doctor wherein I was informed that he also had pneumonia. To save myself a TON of muscle fatigue, I will skip to the most recent incident where he came home from school with a concussion and his teacher didn't even know! At first thought, you think, "what a horrible teacher", but knowing Spencer like I do, I can totally see how she wouldn't even know he was throwing up (in the urinal is a detail he remembered when he became lucid hours later) and falling asleep. There was no complaining of a head injury, or tattling on someone for beating him over the head with a baseball bat. I'm not saying that's what happened because I still to this day have absolutely no idea how he came home from school with a concussion, but my imagination has filled in the blanks very nicely.
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