So Saturday night the boys stayed at nana's for a sleepover. They always look forward to this - it usually involves eating a whack of junk food, staying up late and watching stupid movies. Sweet. And since it coincidentally coincided (wow those are big words) with the Hamilton Food & Drink Expo, well it was just the perfect night for our whole family, wasn't it?
Sunday morning I dragged myself out of bed and got my friends to their car, then proceeded to call nana and let her know I was going to pick up a few groceries and then head over to get the boys. She said great, no rush, they're just having breakfast now, so they're fine.
Get to nana's house and she's waiting at the front door for me. Looking kind of concerned, but still smiling, although it's strained. She says: "Hi - um - I didn't want to tell you on the phone...I didn't want to worry you, but..."
I look in the living room and there is a pair of crutches leaning against the chair where Charles is sitting - leg bandaged and propped up on a pillow, right arm bandaged too. Panic. I say "Oh no! What? Oh my god! My Charles, what? What happ....." A thousand things go through my head - hit by a car, skateboard accident, why the hell didn't my mother call my mobile phone, how did they get to the ER, ambulance? did someone pick them up? what what????
Then, I look further into the living room and see Max in the chair, arm in sling wearing a neck brace, moaning softly and I almost start to cry - what kind of a mother is out drinking at a wine expo when her kids are at the hospital and didn't they ask for me and I can't believe no one called me or maybe they did and my phone was off and maybe I heard it and just didn't want to answer....and then....only then...I realize....
Charles and Max, I love you guys. But you are SO dead.