A Tale of Three Kiddies

He told me his name was "Jacob" and when I asked him how old he was he held up four fingers for me. I took him at his word. He was lying on the kitchen floor with a right tib-fib fracture; his leg canted at a very unnatural angle. When we first came in he had been crying, but once I started to work with him, the tears ceased and he became calmer; which was pretty amazing considering how badly this little guy must be hurting. Shock can do that to you.

The dynamics of working with kids fascinates me, while it is for that very reason that many others DON'T like dealing with them, which was what had brought me to this home today. Kids can be tough and they can rip your heart out. Personally I feel the reactions that children have is a far narrower spectrum than that of adults because their reactions are real. With kids you don't really see the dramatics and theatrics, or the psychotic and neurotic tendencies that seem to manifest themselves in many grownups. Take for example Jacob's mother whom Ron is attending to in the livingroom. She is busy hyperventilating and having a general meltdown while her child is lying here with me, in severe pain, yet behaving more like an adult than she is. How parents can get so wound up thinking about themselves rather than their own injured children during times like these is one mystery I will never figure out.

While going thru the motions I talk conversationally with Jacob, asking him how this happened. He tells me that he and Roscoe were playing Superman. When I ask him who Roscoe is he points past my shoulder to a young Black Lab standing outside on the deck, nose pressed to the glass patio doors hoping to be let back in so that he and the boy may resume playing. Hate to tell you Roscoe-old buddy, old pal, but that won't be happening any time in the near future...Jacob goes on to explain how he jumped from a kitchen chair onto Roscoe's back, and how Roscoe took off running, careening them off of a kitchen cabinet, breaking Jacob's leg when they crashed. I nod my head and agree with him that it was just an accident, while secretly wondering to myself just how many people over the course of time have been injured-all in the name of playing Superman.

Despite it all, Jacob proved to be every bit as tough as his favorite super hero. I was absolutely impressed with this kid. He weathered thru everything we needed to do for him as well as being transported to a hospital in another city. I'm sure the pain meds we gave him helped a bit with that too. All in all he took things very well, better than most adult people would and definitely better than his hysterical mother had. Matt and Ron were even surprised. The had radioed for me the minute they'd been dispatched to the Peds-Charlie call, knowing that kids and I just seem to click. Had they known what a trooper this little guy would be they never would've called. Kids are amazing and they really can surprise you at times.
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On Father's Day me and a couple of friends went out for a round of golf. The course was full of kids treating Dads to this one day out of their summer vacation, while their Dads endured this annual tradition trying not to cringe when the kid's divots flew further than their balls did. There were tons of these types of families out, but only one little family caught my eye.

While we waited around for our tee time I noticed a father and son over on the practice putting green warming up. The boy was maybe six years old, and he was concentrating with all his might. Occasionally Dad would come over to help the boy adjust his swing or get a better grip on the club. Dad would stand behind the boy and reach over and around the child, gently wrapping his big hands over his son's small ones as he demonstrated something. The sight of them together like that made me smile it was so tender. Standing together they almost looked like one person.

Once we teed off and started on our way I looked back to see same little boy and his dad coming up the path to wait for their turn to start. Just them, nobody else. The boy looked like an exact miniature of his father, same walk and everything. He even had his own little kiddie golfbag complete with a set of kiddie sized golf clubs. You could tell that this was not just a once a year outing for them, they were serious about their game unlike many of the others who were out terrorizing the course today.

So for the rest of the afternoon I would glance back every so often to the father and his son as they played, keeping up right behind us. Sometimes I would see them standing in a tee box waiting and talking, other times they would be marching together up the fairway as they played along. Maybe the boy is another Tiger Woods in the making, you never know; regardless though, even from a distance you can see how happy the boy and his daddy are sharing a day out together and having a good time. The son seems to see his father as a hero and wants to be just like him. Hats off to this Dad, wish there were a lot more around just like him, men who take an interest in their kids, love them, and help keep them on the right track.
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Monday afternoon I had a close call. I was driving and Ron was with me out to a call. It was not a Code 3 lights and sirens kind of call, but we were moving right along. Coming thru a green light at an intersection I see two boys hanging around on the corner, backs to the traffic just messing around, tussling a little bit as they wait for the walk signal. The light holds for us and I keep coming when suddenly one of the boys grabs the others ball cap and turns running straight out into the street without so much as a glance at the traffic.

My reaction was instantaneous.I hit the brakes and automatically slammed my arm out to the side and across Ron's chest as if to hold him back as my tires lock up on the asphalt and the rig heaves to a halt just as moments later the second boy does the exact same thing the first had done, never even bothering to look for cars. For that one moment in time the only thing that mattered to that boy was getting even with the other kid and getting his hat back, nobody else, nothing else existed.

I got stopped with about two feet to spare. When the boy heard my tires he looked up at me as he darts past the front of the grill, and from his eyes I could see pure hate, loathing and anger, not the fear like you would expect. The look he gave me said HOW DARE YOU? How dare you interrupt my screwing around? How dare you come so close to me, what the hell were you thinking? For this kid there is no realization, absolutely none that had I not reacted when I did, assuming he would do the same boneheaded thing as the first kid, he could have wound up being killed. Death is just something that teenagers never consider as something that could ever happen to them.

Luckily for the boys the cars in the turn lane had been waiting for me to pass thru the intersection, and there were no cars coming in the far outside lane. The boys took off again without giving any of this any thought. The three drivers in the turn lane all looked at me with looks on their faces that were just as surprised as I'm sure the ones on mine and Ron's were. With no time to lose I refocused and got us moving again, putting what had just happened out of my mind.

Kids are kids, I understand that, but kids with decent upbringing don't give people looks like the one that kid just gave me. I think back to sweet little Jacob, and to mini Tiger Woods, and I pray to God that they never grow up and turn into anger filled boys like the one I just saw. It's really too bad, those little boys could teach the older ones a whole helluva lot about life.