My Daddy doesn’t need YOU! He needs MOMMY!

I fell while roller blading downstairs at the void deck. Yup. I had bought Tim a scooter thingy and thought we’d race a bit. It was a very short race.

“Ready, Set, Go!” He raced off, I followed. Then he fell and dropped his scooter in my path. I went around him and, concerned about how he was, turned my head back to see how he was.

It was then that it happened. I lost my balance and fell backwards. My arms automatically stretched out (apparently in a reflex action to save my head from smashing the ground) and impacted the ground straight down. I looked down and me elbow popped out. It apparently quickly popped in again spontaneously. Nice. Hurt like a mother.

Anyways. There I am, sitting on the screed cement floor, my left arm dangling limp and my right hand holding my wrist. My eyes are squeezed shut and I am grimacing from the sheer pain of it all. Along comes my loving son with his words of encouragement and tough love. “Get Up! Get Up! You’ll feel better when you get up!. “Tim, I can’t move. It’s really painful…”. “Get Up! C’Mon!! Just get up and you’ll be better!”.

That’s when I knew: My son has no empathetic molecule in his little 13kg body.

After a period of attempts at loud persuasion (read, yelling at me to ‘Get Up!’) he finally decides to massage my head to ‘make it all better’.  Meanwhile, I’m just sitting there not moving. Eyes still shut.

I manage to get to the lift on my roller blades with Tim scooting along beside me. He presses the lift button and we get to the 6ixth floor. “Tim, can you go downstairs to the 4th floor where we live by yourself and get Mommy to bring me a pair of slippers?”. I thought that I wouldn’t alarm my wife and use the subtle approach instead.

Mistake on my part. Tim gives me a definite “Yup!” and disappears down the stairs. He comes back 5 mins later with my pair of AND1 basketball shoes and a pair of socks. Alone.

“That’s really good Tim. Now, can you go downstairs again and get Mommy, now remember to get Mommy ok?, Mommy to come upstairs to the 6ixth floor. “Yup! Ok!”, he disappears down the stairs again. This time, he doens’t really come back for 10 mins.

I’m thinking to myself, “Nuts, what if something happened to him? Did he actually go home?”. I take off my roller blades and put on my basketball shoes. I carry my blades and his scooter and get myself home. When I do finally get there, I asked Nora where Tim was and was reassured to find him somewhere in my room.

This is where I got really tickled.

I find out that when Tim had come home the second time, he immediately went, as per my instruction, to look for Mommy. Upon discovering that Mommy was taking a shower, he decides to help persuade Mommy to finish her bath immediately by incessantly pounding his fist on the room door. My wife is just beginning to threaten him with a spanking when he hollers, “Mommy, Daddy needs you!”. Praise thinks to herself, uh oh. “Is Daddy with you?”. “No! Daddy needs you!”. Nora, overhearing what Tim had said asks him, “Tim, where is your Daddy?”. Remembering my instructions to him, he yells at Nora, “My Daddy doesn’t meed YOU! He needs Mommy!”.

We had a good laugh about it when he found out what had happened. (I still needed to go get my arm fixed). One thing I know for sure, my son really knows how to follow instructions to the ‘T’.