For the last 2 weeks, Rain Dancer has had a "sore" toe. I say sore, because I'm not really sure what is going on with it. When he first started complaining, I decided that his toe was crammed into a too-small-shoe. Apparently the doctor agreed, and we both gave the advice "Buy new shoes." Well, apparently what we needed to say was "Buy new shoes of a larger size."
So, for two weeks now, he has been dragging his injured foot around the school - at a slower than normal pace (and if you know him, you know that there is absolutely nothing that will get him to move faster). My pleas of "We need to pick up our pace" have been met with a hunched back, practically dragging hands on the ground, and the pace slows even more." I have also been met at the door with a shoe in one hand, and a bloody sock on his foot. He has offered to show me his bloody foot, and has described in great detail how the care of the toe is going and what has been happening with said toe - and what sticks to it.
Apparently, last night, RD went to the hospital for the offensive toe. At this point you should be imagining the slowest walker on the face of the earth, plus he's now faced with a toe injury, and to top it all off - he was at the hospital until 2am - so he's sleep deprived.
Fast forward to today:Today we went on a field trip. It was outdoor for 90% of the time. Amidst snow flurries, we hauled onto our busses and waved goodbye to our nice warm classroom. And our nice chairs.
We walked. And walked. And walked.
RD was taking all of this with great stride, and was managing to keep up with the class with no problem.
Then he saw the stairs.
Our class IA led us up these stairs by the water. At the bottom, RD declared NO, HE WAS NOT GOING TO GO UP THE STAIRS. He couldn't, he just couldn't. He could not possibly survive the stairs.
As our class passed us on the stairs of death, we took our time - one step at a time. My arm was linked in his, and I was walking the stairs for the both of us.
As we touched down at top stair, I released my grip to prance around like Rocky. I even began making crowd noises and humming the theme song. As I released my grip, RD dropped to the ground like a rock.
So there he was, lying in the middle of the walkway. It was just the two of us - our class was out of sight. The other classes from our school (including my wonderful co-teacher that is my usual "backup") were on a different path. I was sure that this was the end of me.
There was no getting him up - none of my usual tricks were working, and he was just rolling on the ground, moaning, and telling me that he was going to go drown himself in the river. I had nothing left in my pocket of tricks. I couldn't even distract him (the biggest trick of all).
Then, I see some people - a nice couple on a stroll - walking right towards us. I was preparing myself for the "Oh you poor girl" look that I'm sure parents get with toddlers throwing tantrums in the grocery store. Then, in a nice loud voice, I bend down to RD and I say:
"C'mon little boy, let's go find your teacher."
He laughed, and stood up. Just in time for those strangers to pass us and smile.