So here's the story

The kids like it when I lie on my back and hold them up in the air with my feet. Well, Ethan and I thought it would be fun if we took it up a notch. So he climbed up my legs and stood on top of my feet, like we were Chinese acrobats. He got scared and jumped, landing face down on the floor in a weird way.

He didn't cry, but he kind of did a muffled whimper into the carpet. When I got to him I could tell something was wrong. Ginger and I turned him over and he popped his head up and said "I need a DRINK!" That was weird.

He could move his arm just fine, although he was definitely in pain. No bones were sticking out or anything, so we got him a drink of water and assumed he'd be okay after a few minutes. But his arm was not working quite right and he asked if he could go to bed early. Also weird.

In the middle of the night I heard moans coming from his room. I went to his bed and asked him if he was okay. "No, not really." Poor little dude.

Fortunately, the next morning he already had a doctor's appointment scheduled to take care of his cough (the beginnings of bronchial pneumonia). They took x-rays, and sure enough, his elbow was broken.

Ouch. Everytime I say "broken elbow" I cringe.

He'll wear the cast for three weeks, after which we'll certainly have it bronzed and hung above the mantel.

Pa broke his exact same elbow when he was exactly the same age, 50 or so years ago. Ethan thought that was cool.

Despite his cough he desperately wanted to go to school today so he could show off his cast. He didn't use the bathroom all day at school for fear that he wouldn't be able to snap his pants back together. FYI--he can snap his pants--he tried when he got home.