We were celebrating Joe's mom's birthday. Sam planned the party, from "Minute to Win It" games to the candles for the cake to the pinata full of candy.
This is the before picture.
The games had been played, the pinata had been emptied (or so we thought), and we were about to have cake.
I was inside putting dishes in the dishwasher when I heard screaming.
Loud screaming.
I looked out the window, gathered that Sam had fallen while playing, saw Joe was out there to attend to the situation, and went back to the dishes.
And being the ever sympathetic mother that I am my first thought was "Wow - Sam is really, really tired to be screaming that loud about a little fall."
But then he kept screaming.
And I heard Joe say some words not usually heard around our house, particularly with children present.
And I looked out at his arm and saw it was bent in a not-so-natural position.
So off we went to the ER - both of us convinced that he had broken both bones in the lower part of his arm due to the extreme angle of it.
Thankfully, it was not as bad as we thought.
Sam was so brave and so polite and such a good patient - we could not be more proud of him.
And since I have been predicting multiple ER trips for this boy ever since he starting jumping and doing tricks off everything in sight at age 1, I guess I should be thankful it took us until age 5 for the first bone to break.
The official story from Sam: "I thought I heard a few pieces of candy still in the pinata, so I stood on the swing to try to bang them out. And then I fell. I guess I won't do that next time."
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