You jammed your finger in the door today and you screamed so loud, that you actually turned a weird shade of purple, and I feel like a horrible piece of stinky poo for allowing that to happen! Then last night, Dad was cleaning your ears with an ear bud and he pushed too far and you almost puked the way you cried so hard from the pain. Dad also felt like a complete and utter loser for hurting you like that. We are so sorry!!!!
It really has been a series of unfortunate events, because a few days ago you were jumping on mummy’s bed and you bounced into the wall and had a big horrible lump on your head and it was close to bed time and I was too afraid to make you sleep because I didn’t know if you had a concussion or not. And in the same day, Hannah beat you up (well she gave you a few hot slaps), and you are so good, you know not to hit your little sister back, but it hurt so you were very upset.
You fall off your bike quite often, because you think you are a professional racer and you try stunts that you clearly have not practiced enough. Your fearlessness makes you believe you can fly off ledges and jump off chairs which are far too high, and you don’t believe me when I tell you that the water coming out of that tap is STILL TOO HOT, and you often scald your little fingers. You love spinning around and around to make yourself dizzy and you think it’s funny to fall all over the place, that is until you fall into a piece of furniture and hurt yourself. Your little legs and arms bare the evidence of your injuries, you look like you play rugby, bar the cauliflower ears.
I know you are a little boy, and that I should expect these wild and adventurous antics from you, but please boy, you are going to give mummy an embolism (that’s a very serious booboo) if you keep this up. How about we stick to reading books, doing puzzles and colouring in for a while? I know these aren’t half as much fun as seeing how fast you can roll down a grassy bank or sliding down the slide backwards or seeing if your finger can fit through the keyhole (only for it to get stuck), but we really need to find other outlets for that pent up energy you have.
One last request, please can we try to preserve the medical aid? We have to make it stretch until the end of the year and at the rate you are going, we are going to have to patch you up at home and although I have witnessed you getting stitched up before, I don’t think I have the stomach to do it myself.
Other than that, please remain the little comet you are. A comet is a bright spark that zooms across the sky, it doesn’t orbit the sun like the other good little planets, but instead follows its own path. Like you, it too has a mind of its own.
Love you my little soldier.