I want to tell you about the best moment of my day.
I was walking down the hallway of the hospital, hand-in-hand with Little B., from his room to my office. For the past few days he's been sporting a pair of briefs, SpongeBobSquarePants style. I had a CRAZY day today and decided to save him for last.
We made our way with his little burned hand in my right and my rolling walker in my left. About halfway to our destination he noticed the big burly chunk of metal I was porting. He stopped and turned down his eyebrows at me. I was a bit taken aback by his sudden stern look. 'What's wrong?' I asked him in English (since apart from laughter, smiles, and charades we don't share a common language). He just furrowed his little brows more.
Confused, I waited for him to make the next move.
He circled around me to my left side, and using his unburned right hand, he reached up above his head for the handles of my walker and tried with all his might to get the left hand up there too. He wanted to carry my walker for me!
Before he could topple over, I moved his little hands to a bar that was more Little B.-height appropriate. I helped him out . . . at least until we rounded the corner and he caught on to my assistance. His eyebrows reprimanded me again, and I let go.
By the time we got to my office I was sure that with him trying to carry a walker far taller and wider than he is we were going to have a mini disaster on our hands resulting in the tragic loss of limbs and lots and lots of tears . . . good thing we were only steps from the five bed ER!
But crisis averted, Little B. stumbled with the walker to the far wall of my office and made his way to my big swivel chair for a few rounds of spinning before we got down to the serious work of giant theraballing, homemade bubbling, and plenty of giggling.