appeasing the boy with the cast

Two weeks after surgery the big cast came off.

The pins.  Gross.  Sorry. 

Well one of this summer's biggest annoyances is becoming more manageable.  The full size cast Eddie was stuck with after his wrist surgery was downsized a few weeks ago to a forearm cast.  

At long last, he could attempt to attend water polo practice, assuming the rubber flipper-like cover I bought functioned as well as the testimonials claimed it would.  Of course he was excited to get back to caddying as well.  That college fund isn't going to fill itself!  I was elated that he no longer required my chauffeuring services.  Moments after we arrived home with the new cast, I tossed him the keys and asked him to take the car for a spin around the block.  'See if you feel like driving is doable.'  I crossed my fingers until he came back and gave me a confident nod.

Ed taking a photo of the pins sticking out of his wrist. 

This pricey water polo camp probably would've refunded me my 260 bucks when Eddie broke his wrist the first day of summer playing basketball.  This was a few days before water polo even began.  Ah, but Ed needed something to hope for.  Determined to make the most of a lousy situation, I researched a rubber 'flipper' and ordered it online for 40 bucks.  We knew he couldn't be involved with any contact, but participating in drills could strengthen his game.  Again - that's what he was hoping for.

Along the way we've dealt with some expected frustrations.  There have been bad itches, bathing challenges, boredom, and aggravation at missing both his various sports camps and the inability to workout beyond legs and riding a stationary bike.   

One issue that I couldn't have predicted was his NEED to ride on his ripstik.  This skateboard like equipment consists of two wheels and a board.  It involves lots of balance.  He got the ripstik when he was about 11 years old.  He suddenly remembered that it existed and demanded that we retrieve it from the attic.

Don't ask me how he knew it was up there.  When Coach shoves things in the attic or the crawlspace, he generally loses all memory that such an event ever happened.  There is no inventory.  It just disappears.  Oh the things I've stumbled upon in our home's remote storage areas.  Things that I thought were long gone.  

So the ripstik registered on Ed's radar and then it became his mission to ride it.  With a broken wrist.  This idea didn't thrill me, but when Tank finally agreed to poke his head into the attic above the garage Ed was overjoyed.  The kid just wasn't that excited about much.  So, he started riding around on his ripstik.  

Ed (when he was still in the full cast) leaning to one side to demonstrate to Tank how to use balance to ride the ripstik.  The picture cracks me up, because it wasn't planned that their faces don't appear in it.  Just happened that way - no cropping necessary. 

Ed taking off down the sidewalk and Tank no doubt begging for a turn.  His elbows are not yet bloody.  Something I also failed to photograph.  Probably OK, since the picture of the pins was probably graphic enough. 

Tank begged for a turn.  After he scabbed up both elbows significantly, I intervened and banned Tank from borrowing Ed's long lost toy.  One kid in a cast this summer was all I could handle.  

Reg on the other hand, who is Eddie's mini-me, took to it right away (and I have no pictures of him on it).  Honestly, the cloning that seems to have transpired when we created our offspring is freakish.  Scientifically unfounded - but freakish.