For those who have not seen our back steps, they are a little scary to say the least. I've provided a picture so you can see the steep, concrete, coupled with no railing. This obviously makes me nervous because Braden sometimes has trouble with his center of gravity, and Avery is, well...clumsy.
Today was no different, except that one of the neighbor's kids was here playing too. (That's a side story in itself. I love the fact that my kids are getting old enough to have friends over to play with by themselves...this week, two of the four neighbor's kids have been over to play...)
So...imagine: back door propped open. Me, back and forth between dining room and kitchen. Braden, in and out.
All moms out there know the zone you get in where you hear the things going on around you, but aren't necessarily focused in on them...imagine me in that place.
Another piece of this puzzle: Braden's police motorcycle that Santa brought him. He loves this, but it stays inside most of the time because it's small enough to ride around inside, and I don't want the wheels to get all messed up if he takes it outside.
...Back to the not really focused zone....
I faintly hear Braden say, "I get my poyeece motosicul..."
The statement barely registers with me. I hear him hop on his police motorcycle and head off.
Then I realize the door. Propped open.
Then the cries begin; followed with Avery's screams, "he drove..well, not really drove..he flipped down the stairs!" (Braden never cries about falls, bumps, etc. unless he is truly hurting.)
I bolt to the door not knowing what to expect. Broken bones? Gashes? Missing teeth? At least blood?
None. of. the. above!
God is truly good. What could have been a night in the ER was only a minor abrasion on his face and hand. Wow.
Other than the fact that he wasn't hurt, I am so so so glad that I didn't have to see it happen. My heart was pounding enough at the thought of what could have been.
On the other hand, poor Avery will probably have nightmares tonight.