A Cowboy's Service

"The key to being a real cowboy, is to get back up on a horse when your
broken arm has healed properly."

The Cowboy's Mom

Friday afternoon, I watched as Luke held on for dear-life as the horse he was riding galloped towards home at full-speed.  All I could do was scream, "Hold on Luke, hold on." And bless his heart he did, and then Luke could hold no more, and I watched my little cowboy, Luke, fall flat on the asphalt.  He suffered scrapes and sores all over his little body... A three inch bruise/goose ache on his knee... A bruise/scrape/goose ache on his right elbow. And, a sore wrist.  Or so we thought.

Mike and I spent most of Saturday in heated discussion regarding Luke's 'sore wrist.'

Luke spent nearly all of Saturday laying on the couch.  His activities consisted of, Tylenol swallows, ice pack wraps, band-aid replacements and an occasional complaint.

Sunday morning, Mike took Luke to the church at 8:30am to set up chairs.  Upon completion of that task, Mike (finally) took Luke to Primary Childrens Medical Center where a broken arm was diagnosed.

Ellie's response to all this?
"It's a good thing Grandpa didn't see it, because Luke wasn't wearing a helmet."

Joshua's response to all this?
"I don't want ride a horse and fall on the road."

Megan's response to all this?
Luke asks.  Megan does.


Mike's response to all this?
"At least now Luke has a good story to tell.  Not only does he have a broken arm from falling from a high speed galloping horse, he set up chairs before he was taken to the doctor!"

My response to all this?
"Told you so..."