Tuesday, August 4, 2009
What a Difference a Year Makes
Some of you may remember my tales from last summer about KosherCop's over-the-top reactions to the occasional bloody knee or toe. I live in fear of his hysterics with every bump and scrape.
Things have been getting progressively better though. And tonight was downright astonishing.
Our neighborhood had a block party earlier this evening - a once a year (if we are lucky), "night out" against crime affair, where we all stumble out of our houses squinting and rubbing our eyes as we adjust to the fact that there are other people living on the block.
KosherCook and KosherCop were already there when I got home from work, so I walked over and stayed just long enough to say hello and determine that KosherCop had no intention of ever leaving the moonbounce. After 5 hours worth of conference calls at work today, I had neither the energy nor the voice to manage an hour of small talk.
KosherCook mentioned that KosherCop was very excited about having his shoes off - a rule for going on the moonbounce - but he was also walking around the street barefoot. This is usually not allowed. KosherCook doesn't believe in being barefoot. Whenever I walk around the house barefoot he points to my feet and sounds the alarm of "Borves!" much as our Yiddish-speaking forebears would have. (Borves is barefoot in Yiddish.)
Anyway, I made a hasty exit and went back home. Maybe 15 minutes later I hear KosherCop banging on the front door yelling, "Mommy!"
I couldn't get to him immediately and as I weaved my way past the open dishwasher and other obstacles in our tiny kitchen I kept waiting for the sound of KosherCook's key in the lock.
Never heard it.
I finally got to the door and there's KosherCop - all alone, barefoot, and telling me quite calmly, "Mommy, I cut my toe."
So many questions went through my head at the same time: why is my son alone? where is KosherCook? did he let KosherCop walk home alone? did he know he was bleeding and let him go home alone anyway?
A split second later the prevailing thoughts were "call KosherCook" and "get bandaids". I called my husband as I walked KosherCop to the bathroom, because I had no idea if he even knew our son had left the block party.
As it turned out, KosherCook was completely aware - in fact he watched him from the corner, KosherCop's shoes in hand, until he got to our door. The cut came later when he stubbed his bare toe on a crack in the sidewalk.
So while I washed and bandaged my son's toe I marveled at how calm he was, hardly believing it.
No hysterics over a bleeding toe and bare feet allowed outside - all in the same night. Will wonders never cease?!