161. Kids

Weeks had gone by swiftly and we were by now used to our new surroundings. We had found an au-pair girl who was going to say with us during the horrible summer months.

One afternoon the two eldest kids were being so annoying, fighting and bickering and throwing tantrums that we decided they would be punished.

'That's it! You two are grounded this afternoon. No dinosaurs for you.'

They did not protest that much. In fact the fighting and the bickering stopped almost instantly.  An afternoon with the cool American au-pair was a lot more fun for them than an 'educational' weekend outing with their annoying brother and their baby sister. The younger siblings did not know what 'educational' meant and they were thrilled to go. So we left the girls at home and gave strict instructions to the au-pair: activities for the afternoon had to be educational too, and no baking cupcakes!  We drove to the mall in search of the show of the century. We got there early before the crowds: the place was empty. 

'There's a sign! Let's park here!' 

I said to my husband. So we parked the car and continued to follow the signs until we reached the ground level of the shopping centre.

'A bit empty. We must be a bit too early ...' 

But the huge empty area was the best indoor playing grounds and soon enough brother and sister were running around, screaming with joy. What fun! And how safe. No-one around. No traffic. Nothing. I was delighted. They could make the most of this safe, air-conditioned space and let off a bit of steam. We enjoyed watching them, smiling, thinking we got that parenting bit sussed out.

Baby turned her head towards us to see if we were watching her. We  waved back and made some encouraging comments.  Then she kept on running, looking at us at the same time.

'Look where you're going!' We shouted. 

Only as an automatic warning as there was really nothing to worry about. But suddenly and for an utterly mysterious reason, Baby swerved sharply to the left and turned her head to see where she was heading and doing so, banged her head straight into a charity stand. Then she fell backwards on her bum. Good, I thought, relieved, thinking that was the safest way to land. I went over to her. But again that complete silence which made me think that's it, she's hurt. Sure enough, a second later and the screaming and the crying started. A feeling of déjà-vu grabbed me as I could see blood gushing out and running down her face, her clothes.

My husband was next to me but this time he had his finger on the pulse. He lifted Baby up in his arms.

'Look!'

I looked. Baby had done something right, she had fallen right outside the opened doors of a huge pharmacy.

Suddenly gone was the cool parents attitude and we reverted straight back into frantic mode. We almost ran into the young assistant who was standing at the door probably wondering if she was going to see anyone that day. When she saw the blood on our daughter's face she screamed and panicked. 

'It's ok. It's probably not as bad as it looks.' I said in a firm voice. 'But we need something to dress the wound.' 

'Yes. Yes. Sure, Ma'am, yes. Here. This?'

I do not think she had much experience, nor was her English very good. She was probably just a weekend helper and would never have imagined having to deal with something like this. But she was helpful and she started to look around to see what she could give us and in her desperation seemed to pick items at random. I kept shaking my head and making stupid gestures wondering how on earth I could mime 'sterile gauze pads'? 

So while she was running up one aisle, handing random things to my husband, I was running down an other searching for what I needed. My husband just stood in the middle shaking his head one way if the item was suitable and an other if it wasn't. Sometimes the assistant who was now fully recovered, would open the box, packet or bottle to show the contents to my husband, hoping for approval. Baby had stopped crying finding the show excellent: all these adults running around like headless chickens. Better than any mechanical dinosaur! Eventually a second assistant came to admire the show too and probably thinking this would go on for a while still ent to get a chair for my husband who obediently sat in it and continued his inspection of the products in stock.

Boxes and packages now gathered in a heap at his feet, he managed to clean the wound and dress the wound. We could now calmly assess the situation: a trip to the hospital it had to be. 

I went to the cash-desk to pay for my wonderful assortment of items that would fill up our boîte à bobos while Baby was being picky in choosing from a selection of lollipops and sweets - for having been such a good girl. 

At the hospital we bumped into the nice gifted surgeon. His expression on his face could have been the one of an actor in a Hollywood comedy show when he saw us. Unfortunately an other surgeon as by then looking after our daughter as the wound was beyond the hairline and a scar would not show so much. Later on I regretted not having made a fuss to get the nice surgeon again. 

Finally back home, everyone chatted excitedly about the events of the day. The girls (and the au-pair) were so glad they had stayed behind. We never went back to see the dinosaurs, somehow they had lost their appeal.