In her column, Tracy shares experiences and lessons learnt as she navigates life and grows with her two boys. To share your views email Tracy on [email protected] In her column, Tracy shares experiences and lessons learnt as she navigates life and grows with her two boys. To share your views email Tracy on [email protected]
Image: File
Big Brother broke his arm when he was five years old. Here we are at a hospital appointment in his Spider-Man costume
Image: Mom
March 16th. Man! Did this weekend weaken me!
I mean, I can laugh about it now, but eish.
It was meant to be a normal weekend—one where we could kick back, relax, and take a breather from the week's birthday celebrations.
But of course, life had other plans. And just like that, we found ourselves at the radiology department once again.
Now, this wasn’t a first for us. No. This visit was actually the second time in just a few months that my son, also known as Big Brother, has broken a bone.
It all started back in October, when he was just five. His alter ego? Spider-Man. In his child-like mind, he could swing from web to web, defying gravity, as if the laws of physics didn’t apply to him.
Well, turns out those imaginary webs didn’t quite hold him as he thought they would. He fell hard onto his right arm, snapping it in the process.
At each doctor’s appointment, we had to go through the ritual of dressing him in his Spider-Man costume—even though the cast on his arm didn’t fit through the sleeve, but who am I to debate it with Spider-Man? He can do whatever a spider can…
Also my brave boy took it all in stride, pushing through the pain and bouncing back, as only a then five-year-old could.
Fast forward five months from his first accident, we are back with a broken finger
Image: Mom
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