18 Months And a Broken Arm

Tuesday morning was play at the mall day.  We jammed to "moves like jagga" on the way.  We were the only ones there because school has started.  Only mall walkers and the babes. 
Air conditioning. 
Perfect!
Until this. . .

Brother and sister were playing perfectly well.  They were in a tunnel under the slide when the crying started.  From the story of a 4 year old, Miss Ainslee fell and Mr. Peyson fell on top of a bent arm.
She couldn't use it to get up.  She didn't raise it when I bent down to pick her up.  Her sad little cry never stopped.
We called Daddy to see if the ER was necessary.
He skipped work and came with us to Urgent Care.  We waited for 3 hours before they sent us home with nothing.
Derek looked at the x rays at home and found something more than nothing.
He called a radiologist from our ward.  Thank goodness for doctors in your ward!
When he came to our house to take a look, Dr. Elliott's first words. . .uh oh.
He called an orthopedic surgeon for us.

Ainslee and Mamma were buddies all night.  It was long, of course.  Poor little babes.
We got in to the doctor this afternoon.  More x rays.  She didn't like that one bit.  She didn't like getting the cast even more.
And when it was finished, she was asking everybody, anybody, to take it off!
Sweet little sad little girl.

She can't lift even a little toy car.  OWEE!  Owee Mamma.
Just 1 1/2 with a little broken arm.  A little pink cast.
Sad story.