This weekend was an eventful one.
Most of it was made of happy moments. We spent a lot of time together, the four of us, enjoying the sun. We discovered a new coffee place which I visited three times in two days. Maia and her best friend had a sleepover after many weeks of not seeing each other. I got to hear the Sistine Chapel Choir in concert with my best friend while the husband held the fort down at home. I had a very long and much needed catching up session with said best friend over another coffee at the afore-mentioned cafe’. I didn’t think the weekend could get better.
And I was right. I was (finally) hearing Mass with my choir yesterday morning when my parents informed me they were at the polyclinic because mum had hurt her hand. They had been watching Robin since the night before so I literally ran to the clinic to relieve them of the responsibility and to see how I could help. As soon as I reached the clinic, I was greeted by my parents who quickly told me not to worry and that Robin was fine. Then I looked at our little adventurer and realised I had been white lied to. Robin had tripped while running and hit her eye on the edge of a table. The doctor thought it would be best to spare her further pain with stitching and put on butterfly stitches instead. She was, as she always is, very calm and cooperative while she was being treated. We’re all very proud of her.
Today she’s back to climbing, running and getting into trouble so I guess she’s on the mend. I’m hoping her face won’t be scarred but the husband is exceedingly proud of her injury. He insists she’s following in his footsteps which in his books is a good thing. I won’t comment on the matter.