My first thought was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I was standing at a store checkout counter when I got a phone call from the school nurse. Sarah had hurt her wrist at recess. 

Daddy to the rescue. 

The day had already been stressful, and it was only 1:45 pm.  Emotionally, I felt like I had been crawling through mud and barbed wire as sporadic enemy fire whizzed overhead.  I’m weary and don’t need this, I told myself. 

But. No matter how cruddy you feel, when your child is in pain, you pop it into a special gear reserved for such occasions. 

Beeline to Raleigh Orthopedic’s Urgent Care. May or may not have pushed the accelerator a little harder. 

Sarah and I show up to an almost vacant waiting room. Score. 

After a relatively uneventful x-ray (for which Sarah keeps her eyes closed the entire time), I’m relieved to hear it’s only a sprain. My baby girl and I immediately decide a milkshake run is called for. 

I’m polishing off a frosted lemonade from Chick-Fil-A as I drop off my brave little girl at home, where a joyous welcome party greets her at the door. 

Now, back to work for a bit. 

For the life of me I can’t remember what I was stressed about.