Michael is constantly injuring himself. He is our daredevil. He had to be rescued from an oncoming tram with inches to spare. At least, this is the story he and the Princess tell, I have yet to verify it independently with our childminder, F, – sometimes, it’s better not to know. The Princess insists that Daniel pushed Michael and that Daniel was not properly reprimanded by F something which the Princess is keen that I should remedy – presumably poor F was too traumatised to do anything other than hang on to Michael for dear life.
Last week, Michael managed to rip a piece of skin off his foot climbing in his bedroom. I have inspected the locus of the accident and can find nothing that might remotely be suspected of causing such a nasty cut. He hobbled for the week.
Then, their father took them to the zoo where “the dreadful fate/Befell him, which I now relate.”* Michael managed to take a square of skin off his arm climbing a fence. He got dirt ingrained in the cut and under his skin. I prodded at it unavailingly for a bit to his anguished screams of protest and then, on the advice of my father (who first verified that Michael’s tetanus shots were up to date – of course Michael’s tetanus shots are up to date), stuck on some disinfectant and a plaster and sent him to bed. “Why am I always getting hurt?” he asked mournfully. Being the mother of a daredevil is very challenging.
*This came into my head. Look, it’s my blog. Small prize (you know, having your charming comment acknowledged for a change, that kind of thing), if you can identify the source without recourse to the internet.
town mouse says
Albert and the Lion? Just from the context, I’m guessing wildly. Otherwise Hilaire Belloc, if I’m allowed two guesses
It’s definitely a cautionary tale, but I can’t be sure which one,
I originally thought “Timthy Winters”, then “”Where the Wild Things Are”. They’re both wrong, I see.
One by Hilaire Belloc about a child who ran away and was eaten by a lion. Slowly, starting at his feet I believe…..
Ponto! Ponto! the boy down sir! Ponto! put it down!
Town Mouse is jolly nearly right.. if you would like to search now, you will find that the quote is from a poem by Hillaire Belloc.
This cautionary tale is fondly known in my family. My father, when young, drew a picture of Jims grave.. just a head.. next to the grave of Henry King, that had string as its ballustrades.
Smug Smile 🙂
Ahh looking back Geepeemum beat me to it.. Qudos to her!
Yes, his name was Jim, I remember him….the FIL can recite it word for word