greasemachine
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- Oct 29, 2021
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Z was on the changing table and when my sister went to reach for something, Z turned his head and followed her. And promptly flipped off the table. Did not make a peep. Nothing. She cried, not him. She took him to daycare. When picking him up, Daycare mentioned he was not using his right arm when crawling. Went for x rays and the doc comes out “We are putting a cast on him right now”. What???? More crying. Her, not him.
Rewind to the previous weekend; we were all outside and Z is in an umbrella stroller. Here comes the 120-pound dog, Dalton, and he proceeds to barrel into Z and Z face plants on the sidewalk.
Back at the hospital for the arm, here comes Social Services. More crying. Her, not him. He is looking rough with all the healing bruises and scratched forehead and now with a cast. Took a minute to ensure them we were not hurting the Muffin Man. The rest is history