(no subject)
So, my family got a call at about noon today that my three-year-old nephew had fallen off a roof and was being taken by helicopter to a hospital on the outskirts of Cleveland.
Unsurprisingly, panic ensued. My mom and dad raced around calling family, cancelling all their plans, and then tore out of here to get to Ohio and find out just how bad things were. I, of course, immediately got down on my knees and BEGGED the Goddess to have mercy on my family, and not to subject us to anymore loss, sorrow or suffering this year. I was, I have to admit, furious with Her for the trials she's inflicted on the people I love, especially my mother, and it was all I could do to keep from cursing at Her in my wrath and fear.
Well, it seems that my prayers were heard and found favor in Her eyes, because I just got a phone call from my mom. Not only is my nephew going to be okay, he's completely unhurt.
Yeah.
No broken bones, no concussion, no internal injuries--not even bruises! The fall knocked the wind out of him, and scared the hell out of his parents, but other than being dirty, it may as well not have even happened. The theory being floated by the know-it-alls in my family is that "since babies and drunks don't tense up when they fall, they don't get as badly hurt, even falling from a greater height." No idea how true or realistic that is, but I'm willing to accept the explanation, since it means my family isn't going to have to go through another grief ordeal.
Of course we're all grateful--my mom sounded on the phone like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, the sheer relief was so strong--but I think that kid is going to be in Big Trouble when his parents arrive. (My mom and dad were the first of the family to make it to the hospital, since Gary and Michelle had to find someone to watch the other twin before they could follow the helicopter.) Even my mom, who fervently believes that the only thing corporal punishment teaches a child is that the biggest and strongest make the rules, said on the phone that "if I ever see one of those boys misbehaving again, I'm going to spank him myself!"
For those who are no doubt thinking "what the hell kind of parents let their toddlers get up onto a roof," you can just cram it, ladies and gents. I know from experience that these boys are like twin Houdinis in their trouble-making abilities. Basically, what happened here is that Michelle put Graeme and Conner in bed for naps in their room. Ten minutes later, she was downstairs and heard Graeme outside, crying. She ran out onto the porch and saw him on the front lawn. He stood up and said "Mommy, I need a band-aid." Michelle, of course, called 911, and he was airlifted to a children's hospital in Cleveland because paramedics felt that if he was injured, Warren General probably wouldn't have the equipment or expertise to give him the best possible treatment.
As far as anyone can figure out, this kid somehow managed to pry open a window that had been nailed shut, kick out the screen, and climb out onto the roof of their porch. He then somehow (accidentally?) rolled off the roof and landed in the yard.
I should also note that all of the upstairs windows are nailed shut because Graeme or Conner (I can't recall which) had already fallen out of a first-storey window last year, and his parents were petrified that the experience would be repeated. It seems like Michelle and Gary are going to have to have iron bars installed on their windows or something.
My mom said it best: "What do you even DO with a three-year-old who's that determined to get into trouble?"
And Graeme, of course, has learned absolutely nothing from the experience. Not only did he get to perpetrate his window escapades, he then got to ride in a helicopter, spend the day being the center of attention of a ton of doctors and nurses, have grandmas and grandpas flock in from all corners of the state to see him, AND his twin brother got left at home with a babysitter. This kid is a holy terror.
Unsurprisingly, panic ensued. My mom and dad raced around calling family, cancelling all their plans, and then tore out of here to get to Ohio and find out just how bad things were. I, of course, immediately got down on my knees and BEGGED the Goddess to have mercy on my family, and not to subject us to anymore loss, sorrow or suffering this year. I was, I have to admit, furious with Her for the trials she's inflicted on the people I love, especially my mother, and it was all I could do to keep from cursing at Her in my wrath and fear.
Well, it seems that my prayers were heard and found favor in Her eyes, because I just got a phone call from my mom. Not only is my nephew going to be okay, he's completely unhurt.
Yeah.
No broken bones, no concussion, no internal injuries--not even bruises! The fall knocked the wind out of him, and scared the hell out of his parents, but other than being dirty, it may as well not have even happened. The theory being floated by the know-it-alls in my family is that "since babies and drunks don't tense up when they fall, they don't get as badly hurt, even falling from a greater height." No idea how true or realistic that is, but I'm willing to accept the explanation, since it means my family isn't going to have to go through another grief ordeal.
Of course we're all grateful--my mom sounded on the phone like she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, the sheer relief was so strong--but I think that kid is going to be in Big Trouble when his parents arrive. (My mom and dad were the first of the family to make it to the hospital, since Gary and Michelle had to find someone to watch the other twin before they could follow the helicopter.) Even my mom, who fervently believes that the only thing corporal punishment teaches a child is that the biggest and strongest make the rules, said on the phone that "if I ever see one of those boys misbehaving again, I'm going to spank him myself!"
For those who are no doubt thinking "what the hell kind of parents let their toddlers get up onto a roof," you can just cram it, ladies and gents. I know from experience that these boys are like twin Houdinis in their trouble-making abilities. Basically, what happened here is that Michelle put Graeme and Conner in bed for naps in their room. Ten minutes later, she was downstairs and heard Graeme outside, crying. She ran out onto the porch and saw him on the front lawn. He stood up and said "Mommy, I need a band-aid." Michelle, of course, called 911, and he was airlifted to a children's hospital in Cleveland because paramedics felt that if he was injured, Warren General probably wouldn't have the equipment or expertise to give him the best possible treatment.
As far as anyone can figure out, this kid somehow managed to pry open a window that had been nailed shut, kick out the screen, and climb out onto the roof of their porch. He then somehow (accidentally?) rolled off the roof and landed in the yard.
I should also note that all of the upstairs windows are nailed shut because Graeme or Conner (I can't recall which) had already fallen out of a first-storey window last year, and his parents were petrified that the experience would be repeated. It seems like Michelle and Gary are going to have to have iron bars installed on their windows or something.
My mom said it best: "What do you even DO with a three-year-old who's that determined to get into trouble?"
And Graeme, of course, has learned absolutely nothing from the experience. Not only did he get to perpetrate his window escapades, he then got to ride in a helicopter, spend the day being the center of attention of a ton of doctors and nurses, have grandmas and grandpas flock in from all corners of the state to see him, AND his twin brother got left at home with a babysitter. This kid is a holy terror.