One of the little girls at Katrina's preschool broke her arm over the weekend. She fell off a piece of playground equipment with her mom right there. Something-or-other was dislocated, it looked pretty bad, and an ambulance was called. I think that is the key, there.
This morning on the way to school, Katrina said, "Lauren breaked her arm. She went on an amboolance. It hurt a lot and a lot and a lot." I said something like, "Yes, it did, but it's healing now."
"I'm going to break my arm," she said.
2 comments:
Heh. I can remember thinking that way, too - longing for a medical emergency so a fuss would be made over me. Ah, ego.
I was always afraid/anxious about doctors and such, so such a thing would never have occured to me.
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