The borrowed boy arrived today with a hu-u-u-u-ge bruise on his forehead. Made me feel so much better, having let him whack his head off the floor on Friday!!! Re-reading that it sounds like I said 'go on, old chap, hit your head off the ground, tis fun'. What actually happened was I was folding ironing or something, he was running cars along sofa when I heard that noise that sends your stomach leaping for your mouth. The noise of a kids head hitting the floor. Aaaaaagh. Turned out he was fine. I needed a medicinal glass of wine when he left however.
Love the borrowed boy but what happens to him is always so much more worrying than things that happen to my lads. They fall over? 'A kiss and you'll be grand'. Borrowed boy falls over? 'I nearly have a heart attack and ring hospitals before going to visit friends for their opinions'.
Love the borrowed boy but loving a borrowed boy can be a nerve wracking experience don't ya know.
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