Yesterday, we were at the playground. Aubrey was toddling around, sliding down the slide again and again, and Aiden was doing his best to break his legs by jumping off of anything he could climb on top of. Despite our warnings, he jumped from a little too high of a roost and twisted his ankle a little. Nothing serious, but he was limping a little after, and Brad mentioned to me in passing, "He probably sprained it a little." Aiden kept playing for a while, then he went and sat down on the edge of the playground, at the top of a hill, looking off. I went and sat next to him, curious what was going on in that little head of his.
"What'cha doing, bud?" I asked him.
"I'm resting my leg. I hurted my ankle a little."
"Yeah, does it hurt?" I asked.
"Well, just a little. I think I brook (he pronounces it so it rhymes with 'puke') it."
"Well, I don't think it is broken. When we get home, we can prop it up on a pillow and you can watch a movie while I make dinner. How does that sound?" I asked.
"OK. But I don't need any ankle spray, Mama, I just sprayed it a little," he replied, with complete solemnity.
Gotta love it.