It’s superman! Or at least super-Cameron. And super-Cameron found out yesterday that he can’t fly.
Matt got home around 2:30 because I had a doctor appointment I had to leave for around 3. The kids were still down for their naps, but due to get up any time. We were sitting in our bedroom catching up on the day’s events until about 10 minutes to 3. At that point I heard crying. I told Matt the baby was up from her nap and we might as well get Cam up too. Then I stopped and listened again. I realized then that it was actually Cameron crying, and not Kaylee.
I booked it across the house and opened his door. He was sitting in the middle of the floor sobbing his heart out. It took me a minute to calm him enough to get the story out. According to Cameron he was on Brendan’s top bunk and reaching for the light cords on the fan. He said he fell out of the bunk and hurt his ankle. At the time I hollered for Matt, worrying that he may have seriously hurt himself. Looking back though I guess I shouldn’t have been too worried. If things really happened as Cameron said there’s no way we wouldn’t have heard a huge crash, even from across the house. We think he was probably standing on the edge of the bottom bunk, hanging onto the top bunk with his hands and fell from there. That wouldn’t have made nearly the crash as his version.
After the way I panicked over Brendan’s last injury I let Matt check him over and I went to get the baby out of bed. Matt was able to move all toes and bend his ankle in every direction without any cries of agony, so he was fairly certain that no permanent damage was done. He offered Cameron an ice bag and a cartoon to “ease” his pain. Cam refused the ice, but said that juice would make it better. He then walked (no limping whatsoever) into the kitchen and let Matt know that red juice would make his ankle better, and that he would really like some blue juice with his dinner.
I’m not sure which is worse. The fact that my child is such a con artist that he knows mom and dad will give him just about anything he wants when he gets hurt; or the fact that we gave him the red juice anyway to make his ankle all better.