I tend to be a little cautious (okay a lotta cautious) when it comes to the kids taking risks. It stems from the early days when the risks were actually fairly risky. I’ve had to make a serious effort to let go and let them get a little crazy. I’ve been working and working on myself when it comes to this issue and I’m getting better, y’all, I am. Slowly but surely.

So we went to our friends’ house on Saturday and when Caleb ran outside to play, I had to bite my lip to not give crazy helicopter mom instructions. So much progress has been made. He’s not a flight risk anymore. LET IT GO, WOMAN.

So when the kids came in to say that Caleb had fallen off the zip line and hurt his foot, I again bit my lip and did not freak out. He had been having tons of fun doing regular ol’ stuff. And I love that.

We both have come a long, long way.

So. Anyway. Caleb was having tons of fun doing 9-year-old boy stuff when he fell and hurt his foot. We thought he might have broken one of the little bones in there so I took him in for X-rays today.

The results?

Turf toe.

The doctor took tons of time with him and explained the injury. Turf Toe – it really is a whole thing. He said it was like when football kickers kick the ball but miss and kick the turf instead. Basically it’s a Charlie Brown toe. A sprained big toe.

But Caleb really liked the term Turf Toe.

We stopped at Publix on the way home and he milked it for alllll it was worth. A seriously impressive professional milking of the situation.

He declined the offer to ride on the end of the buggy and instead hobbled around with lots of wincing and heavy sighs, talking about his turf toe very loudly just in case any sympathetic soul might have been listening.

He decided the BOGOs on italian ice and chocolate chip waffles would help.so.much because TURF TOE.

He told the cashier he had to go home and (WinceSigh) relax because TURF TOE.

Hey you kids walking by in the dairy section, be careful of sweaty hands and zip lines because TURF TOE.

He is hysterical. And totally fine. Or at least he was fine once he got into the italian ice. We both were.