My seven-year-old son isn't very good about waiting. You've probably already figured that out from reading previous posts about doctor visits.
Well, today I had to drag the little guy to my daughter's dance class. My husband is out of town, so I'm stuck with the boy. I knew he wouldn't behave, so he and I took a little walk to Dairy Queen. It's a tradition, that when we go to Dairy Queen, we have to get one of those little rubber balls from the machine - you know, the twenty-five cent ones.
After stuffing down a cheeseburger, french fries, and ice cream sandwich (I know - real healthy!), we headed back to the studio.
The class wasn't quite finished, so of course my son was antsy.
"Mom, watch this," he said. He whipped the little orange ball against a wall in the hall and watched it bounce back and forth between the walls. "Isn't that cool? It's just like the game 'brick ball' on my Ipod."
"No, Bubba. That's not cool. What if the ball bounces against the window and breaks it? What if it accidentally hits someone?"
"That won't happen."
He threw the ball down the hall, attempting to bounce it against the far wall. Unfortunately someone was turning the corner. The ball hit the man smack dab in the middle of his belly. If it was any bigger, the ball wouldn've knocked him out.
"Oh my gosh, I'm sooo sorry!" I profusely apologized.
Fortunately, the man was very nice about it. But no more Brick Ball for the little guy!