Life imitates art.
Em likes to pretend that she’s injured. Usually it’s a broken or twisted ankle. We wrap it up in a cloth like it’s in a cast and she rests. Sometimes she uses an umbrella as a cane. Two minutes later, she’s magically better, and we repeat the process.
Today, we were racing four laps around the outside of the house and with her usual flair for the dramatic, on lap three, she declared that her ankle was twisted and I would have to carry on and finish the race without her. Unfortunately, just at the same time she declared that her ankle was twisted, I actually did twist my ankle. Ow.
Em: “Um… then… my ankle’s broken.”
Showoff.
With the race called due to injury, we supported each other inside and wrapped each other up in “casts.” Then we laid around in her bed, sharing dolls and resting to make each other feel better. Our casts came off at the same time, but she seems to have bounced back a lot faster. Mine’s fine if I keep weight off of it. No more running today for me. Em will have to finish the race without me.