Saturday, October the 5th, 2013 was the worst day of the world ever, according to my oldest son.  He woke up somewhere around 11pm and wandered into our bedroom to ask if it was daytime yet.  Nope, not yet…back to bed.  Somewhere around 5am, my wife woke up to the sound of crying.  It was my oldest son, crying in his room.  When she asked him why he was crying he said, “I’m crying because it is taking too long for the sun to come up.  This night is too long!  This is the worst day!”

Normally, that would be end of the story, but not with my son.  A week later, he was sitting on the couch having a snack.  I was in and out of the room doing some cleaning and when I came back, he was sobbing and crying.  I asked him what was wrong, but I couldn’t understand him through all the tears and sobbing.  All I could see was him pulling at his pant leg, I thought maybe he had stepped on something.  No, he didn’t step on anything…he eventually calmed down to tell me that, “On October the 5th Mom didn’t put a band-aid on the scratches of my leg.  She only put a band-aid on my elbow”.  I asked him if his leg was okay or if it was still injured.  He told me it was still bleeding and damaged.  Upon closer inspection, there were no scars or cuts of course.  “I guess it got better,” he lamented.

Normally, that would be the end of the story, but…not with my son.  After another week had passed, my wife found him crying again.  When he calmed down enough to be understood he told her, “I’m crying because on October the 5th I couldn’t catch anyone when we played tag at the playground!”.  My wife consoled him and he seemed fine afterward.  Then, we remembered that true enough, October the 5th was a Saturday and we had gone to the park, we had played hide-and-seek, and he did fall down and get scratches.

No further incidents have occurred, but I imagine that at some point, we’ll hear more about why “October the 5th, 2013 was the worst day”.