The first broken-bone in our house. Wyatt broke his thumb fielding a grounder that took a weird hop and got him right on the end of his thumb. Of course, we thought he'd be fine and told him to just ice it and sleep on it. He went to school the next day but when he got home and was still complaining about it hurting, Matt had me bring him in. Sure enough--broken. Of course I still thought he could play in his baseball game that night, but the PA looked at me and said, "Oh no. He needs to rest it and stay out of baseball for the next two weeks."
WHat?!?! We would be gone by then and moved to IL. Poor guy was so bummed. But he still went to his games and cheered his team on!
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