I need bubble wrap...

Have you ever cried when one of your kids gets hurt?

I have.

One day last week when the skies were blue and there was a lull in the rain, we headed to the beach to enjoy the sun.  With Ella in school and Andy out surfing, Julian and I started out  for a nice leisurely stroll on the pier.  Well, I was strolling and he was jammin' around on his scooter.  Before we even got to the pier, his front tire found a big crack in the sidewalk and he went flying.  He tried to be a big boy and hold back the tears, but as soon as a couple of nice bystanders tried to help him up and ask if he was okay, he couldn't hold them back. Although the fall did look pretty bad, I knew he was a little more embarrassed than hurt.  After we found only a couple of scratches on his knuckles and after a couple of hugs from mama, we dusted off the sand along with his embarrassment and he was back on his scooter with a smile.

 

We watched daddy on a couple of waves, spotted a couple of seals playing in the water and scared a few seagulls on the pier. 

Near the end of the pier we came to the fishermen.  We had watched them the previous week pulling in fish after fish and the kids were mesmerized.  We made sure to stay back and clear of their lines and they seemed to have their own silent language as they worked easily around each other without interrupting each other's rhythm.  We started back down the pier to go play in the sand.  On our way I noticed a fisherman, away from the group at the end of the pier, leaning over, struggling to pick up a fish with his salad tongs as it flopped around at his feet.  He was a little older and a little heavy set.  I wondered if I should help because he looked like he was about to fall over, but he didn't, so I didn't.  Instead he went to his next pole that bowed down from the pull of a fish at the end of the line.  Julian was a little ways ahead.  I called his attention to the fish being reeled in and he stopped to watch.  I was a little ways behind the fisherman and off to the side.  Julian was another 10 ft down the pier from me.  The fisherman reeled the fish up and instead of bringing the line straight up and over the railing right in front of himself as all the fishermen had so precisely done, he suddenly swung his line off to the side and over the railing.  The line looked like it was coming straight at me and I jumped back as I envisioned a scarf of fish and hooks wrapped around my neck.  

The next thing I knew Julian was crying and his scooter fell to the ground.  

It had all happened so fast, 

I wasn't even sure what had happened.  

All I knew was that he wasn't just embarrassed, 

he was really hurt.  

He was holding his head. 

I picked him up.  

He was crying loud.

It was almost a scream.  

Already a big lump was forming just above his hairline.  I remembered hearing a dull 'clunk' just before the crying and suddenly I realized what had happened.  I looked down at the fisherman shuffling around trying to pick up the fish and I saw the sinker at the end of his line.  It was huge!  About as long as my pointer finger.

I held him and rocked him and I wiped the snot from his nose.  I felt my eyes start to sting with tears.  I should have realized why the fisherman was off by himself. 

I carried him and the scooter down the pier and I was grateful for my sunglasses to hide behind.  I saw his big smile and heard his laugh as we passed the bench where he had scared the seagull.  I brushed away a few tears that escaped.  Ugh!  I got mad at myself for being so emotional.

We got some ice for his head from the donut shop and a donut, of course.

We were both doing much better after the donut. 

I'm just happy I can look at this picture and laugh.