[Me telephoning my mother. Phone ringing. Imagine the greeting. I’m not going to write it out, as that part isn’t interesting to read.]

ME: So, hypothetically, if you had a child who might possibly need a cast, would you go to the ped first, or straight to the orthopedist?
HER: Why, what did he do?*
ME: What?! However did you guess which of my children I was referring to?

What, just because he climbs doorjambs at home and the poles that hold up the swingset at the playground and furniture everywhere? Just because he is the embodiment of sheer kinetic energy? Just because of that?

Yeah, I guess pretty much it makes sense.

* He slipped in the living room and landed funny on his arm. He wasn’t even doing anything particularly adventurous, unless you count running in the house as adventurous. Which I guess you might if you don’t live with my children. The arm looks okay, but it hurts enough that he’s not using it, so we’re going to have it checked out. He’s super excited about the possibility of an x-ray. I am only mildly queasy about the same.