Broken Brain

I had a really good laugh today.

I was in the van with the kids, driving home after picking Lizzie up from school.  We were singing along with the “Tangled” soundtrack when Lizzie suddenly said “Mommy!  You have to turn off the music.  I have to tell you about something really bad that happened today.”

I turned off the music and listened intently to the words that Lizzie so anxiously wanted me to hear.

“Mommy, there was a police car on the wood chips today.”

“What?  Why was a police car on the wood chips?”

“Well, the monkey bars broke.”


“Yes, there was a 1st-grader who was so strong that he pulled so hard on the monkey bars that they broke.”

“Wow, that’s pretty crazy, Lou.  But why was the police car there?”

“Well, the boy broke his leg.”


“Yeah.  He fell really hard.  The teachers called the police and told them that there was a boy who broke his leg and they needed to come and take him to the hospital.”

“Lizzie, do you mean that there was an ambulance, or a police car at your school?”

“A police car.  I think.  Oh, and he broke his arm too.”

“Wow!  He broke his arm and his leg?  He must have fallen pretty hard.”

“Yeah, he was really high up there when the monkey bars broke.”

“You need to be careful on the monkey bars, Lizzie, so you don’t end up breaking your arm and leg too.”

“I am careful, Mommy.  Oh, and the boy had a bandage on his head too.”

“He scraped his head?”

“Yes…and he broke his brain.”

This is the point when I completely lost it.  Seriously.  I was trying to be sympathetic about this nameless boy who suffered mysterious injuries from falling off of broken monkey bars (whatever that means).  But when Lizzie told me that his brain had broken…I broke down and laughed and laughed and laughed some more.

How in the world would I survive without this crazy girl of mine?!


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