Last night after supper we decided not to play Mario Kart and, instead, have an After Supper Dance Party. We do this on occasion when we’re all feeling wiggly and jumpy and in the need to burn off a little energy. It’s one of the ways that we, as parents, trick our children into making themselves tired before bed. Very sneaky, I know.
We turn on the 90’s on 9 on Sirius Satellite radio and begin busting our collective move. There were also some bits of horseplay thrown in which I, the Safety Conscious Mom, may or may not have participated. Okay, okay. I did some under chin tickling on both boys because it creates the most wonderful set of giggles ever heard. But otherwise I danced and reminded my three boys (count ’em, it’s three) to be careful.
FireDad was spinning in circles with BigBrother in the air. It’s not an unusual occurrence, even in our house. Kids love to spin. Dads love to spin their kids. I’m sure that somewhere else in the world another Dad was spinning his kid and their house, like ours, was filled with giggles, laughter and whines of the other child saying, “Me now! It’s my turn, Daddy!”
And then it happened.
The sound of giggling was replaced with a thud. BigBrother had wiggled mid-air and FireDad did what every child and every mother has to believe is impossible: he dropped BigBrother. Thankfully we have carpet in the living room where our After Supper Dance Party is held. But, really, that didn’t matter too much. As I rushed to the Scene of the Accident, the pattern of the carpet was starting to show little pin-pricks of blood on his forehead.
THE PATTERN OF THE CARPET. ON HIS FOREHEAD.
I ran for ice and a rag. BigBrother expressed his outrageous anger with FireDad and clung to me. Then he yelled at me because I was freezing him to death. He sobbed. And yelled at his Daddy. And sobbed. And we kept calmly talking to him, helping him to remember the process of breathing in between his sobs and yells. Eventually he calmed down. And began laughing.
So, I took a picture.
Gosh, he’s cute.
I didn’t take this picture so that we could laugh about this story with our potential grandchildren someday. (Well, that was one reason.) I took this picture to tell the Internet that After Supper Dance Parties are DANGEROUS and SHOULD BE AVOIDED AT ALL COSTS. I mean, isn’t that what would happen if some big government agency got hold of this story? Bath toys and slings are bad, and now you can add dance parties, spinning in circles and maybe even laughter to the list. Or, you could, perhaps, use a little common sense, and, maybe, not drop your child on his face while participating in said dance party events. Or, as my parents learned in the 80’s, if you’re walking across the ice with your little girl on your shoulders so her feet don’t get wet, it’s best not to be wearing slippery cowboy boots. Recently, Dee experienced a scary parent moment, too. Lessons are learned everyday.
BigBrother is fine. He went to school today, some carpet pattern still visible on his head. He was his noisy, bouncy, too-happy-for-morning self while getting ready for school. My next thought is how we’re having pictures with the Easter Bunny taken on Tuesday and how this accident will forever be immortalized with the big scary rabbit. It’s almost funny.
In short, no more spinning on hard surfaces. Today. Maybe tomorrow.