What If

It’s not just a thing for lawyers and the FBI - I write contemporaneous notes. Especially when caring for Rai - always have. I wrote these notes after a conversation I had with Rai, just over two years ago. Saying no isn’t always enough for Rai… sometimes she needs more.  Here is a sample of “more.”
What if...

            Rai often asks me “what if” questions - usually after doing something silly and repeatedly.  Today she was bent over with her hands on the floor, hopping on one foot as she tried to do a one-legged handstand with the other foot - sort of flailing that lone foot off into space and bringing it crashing down with a slap on the hard wood floor.  Hands on floor, one foot down, one foot up, hop… repeat, repeat, repeat…
              I yell downstairs as I turn on the bath water  “Come on Rai - it’s time to take a bath and get ready for bed”... hop, giggle, slap...hop giggle slap... hop, giggle, slap... and then a change in the rhythm... CLOMP, hop, giggle, slap... CLOMP, hop, giggle, slap... CLOMP, hop, giggle, slap... 
            The bath is running, the towel is laying on the vanity, the mat is on the floor... CLOMP, hop, giggle, slap...  I open the bathroom door - Rai is advancing up each step - slamming both hands on the next step, kicking one foot up and hopping on the other foot to the next step and finally bringing both feet down with a heavy CLOMP, a two footed hop, a giggle and a two handed slap on the next step... finally advancing through the hallway and into the bathroom.  
            I stand in her way, anticipating that she would next attempt a full-fledged hand stand in the tiny space between the vanity and bathtub... she hesitated,  slowly reading my mind, she looked up from her crouched position on the floor and scrunched her little brow and asked me simply “What if I did a handstand in the bathroom” I motioned her to the toilet and said “Go potty and get in the tub” She repeated “What if I did a handstand in the bathroom?” I told her not to do a handstand in the bathroom.  She asked again “What if I did do a handstand in the bathroom?”
             I sat on the edge of the tub, turned off the water, faced my granddaughter and set about to create an explanation that she so desperately craved… 
            If you did a handstand in the bathroom, you would fall over and hit your foot on the toilet.
            You would scream in pain and say “Oma, I broke my foot on the toilet”.
            I would come running into the bathroom and see you laying on the floor holding your poor foot and you would continue screaming “I broke my foot, I broke my foot, I broke my foot.”
            I would say “Oh Dear - Let me see.”  I would then take your foot in my hands and move it this way and that way and you would scream “My foot is broken!”
            I would say “It sure is red and now your foot is swelling up - looks like you broke your foot”.
            You would scream even louder and it would hurt my ears, the tears would flow down your cheeks and the snot would pour out of your nose. You would be a howling mess.

             I would say “Be Quiet Rai, I have to call your Mom.”  You would whimper softly while I dialed the phone and then it would ring and ring and after several rings it would go to voice mail.  I would leave a message “Your dingy daughter did a handstand in the bathroom and she hit her foot on the toilet and now we think her foot is broken - please call me!”
            I would hang up the phone, turn to you and say “Let me help you up - don’t put any weight on your broken foot”  You would take my hands and you would slowly stand up, making sure not to put any weight on your broken foot.  
            I would grab a tissue so you could blow your nose and when you were done wiping away the tears and blowing your nose you would throw the used tissue on the bathroom floor and I would yell “RAI - Don’t throw your tissue on the ground!” and then you would hold onto the side of the sink and bend over to pick up the tissue with one hand and I would hold onto the other arm so you didn’t fall over on your head because your broken foot was up in the air and you were so unsteady and we didn’t need a cracked head and a broken foot. You would be glad that you didn’t have a broken head too.
            Once you threw the tissue in the trash can, I would help you hop to the stairs making sure your broken foot didn’t get hit again. You would still be crying and making a big deal about your broken foot and that you wanted your Mom and your Mom hadn’t called us back.  So, I would have you sit down on the top step and have you put your foot gently down on the second step.  Then I would go back into the bathroom and get my phone and more tissues.  
            I would sit down beside you, give you another tissue and text your Mom the details of the broken foot and to let her know that I was taking you to the hospital emergency room for x-rays.  You would start screaming again and act like you were going to pass out - I would yell at you to get a grip and then would try to pick you up but would end up straining my back because you are too heavy to lift and I should have known better than to have tried that.
            So now we are both sitting on the steps - both hurting - both crying - both blowing our noses and my phone dings the text ding a ding. Your Mom has sent a text...All caps - WHAT???  I AM ON MY WAY - WAIT FOR ME - I WILL BE RIGHT THERE!!!  Now your Mom is upset.
            We are still sitting on the steps, still hurting, when your Mom and Kyle come rushing into the house.  You had stopped crying but when you see your Mom, you begin screaming again “I broke my foot, I broke my foot”.  Your Mom starts to cry because she is so sensitive and she doesn’t like to see her little girl hurting.  So now you are crying, your Mom is crying and I try to stand up and my back is hurting and I begin crying.  
            It’s all tears, crying, snot and pain... what a mess. Kyle just smiles but he is really scared because he hates the hospital and he knows this will not end well.
            Your Mom screams at Kyle to pick you up - he does what he’s told and carries you to the car.  Your Mom comes over and helps lift me up by putting one hand under my armpit and the other hand pulling my hand up and out.  I wince in pain but am able to walk to the car.
            Kyle takes us to the hospital.  We go to the waiting room and we sit for hours because they are so busy. Your Mom gets mad because she has lots to do.  Kyle gets mad because he was going to watch Nascar and they don’t have that channel in the waiting room.  Kyle doesn’t like hospitals so he goes outside to wait until we are finished.  
            We finally see the doctor and he orders an x-ray of your foot and an x-ray for my back.  The x-ray shows that your foot is broken and they put a cast on your foot and ankle.  My muscles in my back are strained and the strained muscles moved a part of my spine out of alignment.  The doctor says they have to admit me to the hospital for a few days and put me in traction.  That means I have to lay down on a special bed and they stretch me out. The nurses put weights on my feet and a brace on my neck.  I have to lay flat for at least 36 hours so my spine gets put back in the right place. 
            You have a cast on your foot and can’t go swimming for six weeks and can’t play baseball either.  You are mad about that.  I have to make sure I don’t lift anything over 10 pounds and can’t work in the garden. I am mad about that.   
             So, that dear Rai, is what would happen if you did a handstand in the bathroom?  
          You can see the wheels turning in her little head as she processes that scenario… finally she says “OK” and gets in the tub.