We built him an arch.
We named his new internal orthotic “Archie.”
Scott inherited his father’s flat feet and it’s already giving him a lot of pain and reeking havoc on his posture. Since we don’t want him to be a crumpled crippled old man by the time he’s 42, like his father, we decided to spring for the $10,000 surgery (We have a $12,000 deductible. Welcome to the world of the self employed, BUT I still I don’t believe in Obamacare.)
Between foot surgery and the tonsillectomy earlier this year, we could have spent the summer in Europe. Dang expensive kids.
So, I spent the weekend as main caregiver to a 12-year-old busy bod boy who’s laid up, bored out of his gourd already with four more weeks of recovery to go, THEN surgery on the other foot.
“Can you make me a sandwich?”
“Will you get me another pillow?”
“Can I have some ice cream?”
“Will you get me a movie?”
“Can you make me a smoothie, and don’t put bananas in it this time?”
“Is it time for my sponge bath yet?”
“Where’s my Kindle Fire charger?”
“Can I get a new Wii game?”
“How many days did the doctor say?”
It’s going to be a LONG summer.