Late mustering mishap lesson in parenting
Me and my big mouth.
I had to say the other day that we had almost got through mustering without any injuries.
When I saw my eldest son limping and he said a calf had trodden on his foot, I didn’t think much of it.
When he took his boot off a couple of hours later because it was getting tight and I saw his foot, I began to worry. By the evening, he couldn’t weight bear or move his toes and I suggested he needed to see a doctor.
It took only another 24 hours and a friend, who is a nurse, to convince him he should get it looked at.
It was off to town for X-rays, which showed some broken bones, and a need for a CT scan, involving a trip to Perth and a visit to a foot specialist.
Now, said son has a new car and he insisted we take that to town.
Knowing how particular he is about his cars, driving this sent my blood pressure through the roof.
I started off well with not being able to get the key in the ignition, only to find it was the wrong key and the ignition key was tucked away inside the remote.
This vehicle has six gears — I remember when four was a lot to learn about. I try for reverse with no success. “It’s got a collar,” son informs me. When the hell did car gears start having collars?
Collars belong on shirts and blouses, not cars.
It was a long day of going back and forth between the GP clinic and the hospital, with many periods of waiting in between and a very grumpy son.
I’m not sure what he was most grumpy about, being hobbled, having to go to Perth on a plane instead of in his new car or that nurse, who mistook me for his wife.
Score one for mum, probably about minus 1000 for son.
Three kids, 32 years and this is our first break/plaster.
Hopefully, I haven’t just put a curse on the family!