We did not cope well with the F word.
In the shower, le Bear waves her little reverse wave from her perch in Beloved's arms. They head off downstairs. I close my eyes and breath up the steam.
There are two thumps in quick succession and beloved lets out a sound that's neither shout nor cry but somehow both. Time stops. The water hangs in mid air around me. I shove the shower door aside and start running.
For a moment, there's a thought in my mind that hasn't yet congealed but it is surrounded by a mist of pure fear.
Bear starts crying as I turn the corner at the top of the stairs. I'm instantly relieved because I can see they are both ok. Beloved holds her, they are getting up.
Just a slip onto her bum. A Bear was held tightly, as she should be.
The crying doesn't cease immediately. She protects her leg, uses the other- clearly in some discomfort. But things seem to improve, and I go to work.
A bit later she's still a bit ratty, still not shoving with that leg when she commando crawls. Beloved calls. We agree, a visit to the GP just to be on the safe side.
GP says all fine, but perhaps, just to be sure, drop in on the Royal Children's.
I join them in the waiting room from work, with chocolate for Beloved and food for a Bear. The nurse thinks she's fine, but a quick once-over by the Paediatrician should confirm it.
He thinks she's fine, but an X-ray might be ideal, just to be sure.
We hold her down, wearing our heavy lead suits, and she has a cry on the X-ray table. Not nice for a girl...
The X-ray looks fine, says the Radiologist. I'll hand it back to the Paediatrician for a final check and you'll be out of here.
We wait a bit longer, chat to other parents. It's a sad place, the Royal Children's. A girl has damaged her eye falling in a cartwheel, somehow. She is the embodiment of pathos. I chat to her dad, not really saying anything useful. We shrug, and wait some more.
The Paediatrician walks in with the X-ray. A hairline fracture, he says.
We just stand there. Neither of us has ever broken a leg. A Bear isn't 10 months and she has a fracture.
It was a sad, sad night.
Meanwhile she recovers in days, without a fuss, and is charging around again as if nothing happened.
We hate the stairs. Oh how we hate the stairs.
Nitpicking on nominal GDP targeting - Writing in the AFR, economics correspondent Jacob Greber begins his discussion of the Xenophon proposal with the assessment “What a stupid idea”. Given tha...
1 hour ago