Emma's on day three of her grievous knee injury. Not to make light of it...because she is injured, and a doctor with a medical degree and everything diagnosed her with "Maybe a knee sprain".
This elicited a scoff of indignation from Emma who I think was holding out for something more serious, more 'interesting'..."*Maybe* a sprain. What's that?" Her "maybe" dripped with sarcasm so effortlessly thick I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. Suspicion of medical profession? Check.
She'd been told she could ditch the crutches whenever she felt comfortable without them, but she decided that her first day back at school she needed them. I suspect, however, that it was because she felt the presence of crutches would aid her plea to use ...the school elevator.
She got a key to the elevator yesterday. She's allowed to take two friends with her for "safety reasons".
This morning she came down without the crutches and told me she was going to try to do school today without them. I argued that she should wait until this weekend. We compromised. She's took the crutches to school but will stash them in her locker unless she needs them.
"They'll fit in your locker?" I asked skeptically.
"Stand up," she replied.
"You're my locker."
I stood stiffer and straighter. She reached for the handle, imagining where it might be, then holding the crutches up in front of me. She touched my forehead measuring it as the height of the locker.
She looked at me. "What was that?"
"I'm a locker. I clicked when you touched me. I'm getting into my role."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Yeah, they'll fit," she said.
I drove her to the bus stop. She felt ready to ride the bus today too. Yesterday she didn't think that would work. Today things are looking up.
For me too. I'm more myself again. Back to even keel. Chipper. Going up, feeling better. My emotional elevator, Emma's leg, and the school's elevator...all heading to the top floor once more.