A Hard Day's Night

Little Sister embarked on a half-week trip and returned with a back injury from a game of Wipe Out.

All during Funtime Friday (homemade fudge and The Great Mouse Detective), Little Sister was pretty much either complaining about being in pain or sleeping.

Because complaining about being in pain and sleeping are completely normal activities for Little Sister (ballet takes a toll on her body), we all ignored her.

Then Mom came home and her mother-and-RN superpowers kicked in.

MOM: Little Sister. Let me see your back. (touches Little Sister's back)

LITTLE SISTER: That makes me dizzy and also want to throw up.

MOM: Great googly moogly!

That is more or less what she said.

MOM: We'd better get you to the hospital. I've seen injuries like this before. Your back could be broken.

Within the hour, Little Sister had received a priesthood blessing, was wearing a brace, and was en route to the emergency room.

At this point, it was after eleven o'clock at night. The whole thing seemed a bit surreal. Also, it was more or less terrifying.

Baby Brother was supposed to be in bed, but actually he was lying awake crying. And when I say he was supposed to be in bed, I mean he ought to have been in bed. At least, that's what he kept saying, even though he is in elementary school and no normal elementary school kid uses that word.

"I ought to be in bed," he sniffled, "but I just have a lot on my mind."

I took him outside to look at the moon and sing to him, which is what we used to do to get him to sleep when he was a baby. Except he isn't a baby anymore. And Little Sister used to be a baby. They placed her in my arms and told me I was a big sister. I got a sticker that said "Big Sister" on it and everything. But no one even told me it was a lifetime commitment. No one told me it meant staying up nights worried sick and having to comfort rather than be comforted.

I soothed Baby Brother. We said a prayer together. I tried to say things that would make him smile. Since none of us were going to sleep anytime soon, I took him and Little Brother to McDonald's. We kept vigil and ate chicken sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies and fries.

We got home at a very indecent time. I told the boys to go to bed and went to the bathroom to shower.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Who is it?

BABY BROTHER: It's Baby Brother.

AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: What did you need, sweetheart?

BABY BROTHER: I just wanted to say goodnight. (pause) Goodnight!

A lifetime commitment indeed. But totally worth it.

Moral of the story: Little Sister is fine. Nothing was broken.

And when I went to a singles' ward activity and learned we would be playing Wipe Out, I decided to sit it out.