Funny Guy Friday... I think my thumb is broken...

     I love my daughter Grace more than just about anything else in the world. But like any other dad of a teenage girl, there are things that I will probably never understand about her. For instance, every year, the night before softball season starts, she asks if anyone has seen her glove. Why would she not know where her softball glove is the night before the season starts, you ask? Because she hasn't touched it since the last game from last season. Sports are social events for her---not the live-or-die, slit-your-opponent's-throat-at-all-costs events that they should be. I don't get it.
     Once the season starts, she goes to practice and looks pretty good. However, this does not always translate into hitting success at games, as she is not... how shall I say this... not overly aggressive at the plate. She is a good hitter that looks at too many pitches. Certainly, she is not the same hitter as she is in practice. When she does get on base, she is a smart base runner. But if she strikes out, it does not bother her.
     In fact, very little about softball bothers her too much. In one of her games this season, her team was leading by five runs going into the last inning when the other team scored four runs and had the bases loaded with two outs. The hitter struck out but the catcher dropped the third strike, so the batter was allowed to take off and run to first. All the catcher had to do was step on home plate or throw to first but for some reason she decided to throw to third. The catcher overthrew third and two runs came in and the other team won the game on a walk-off strike out. Devastating!
     Grace rode home with me and I knew better than to bring up the game, and so did Grace. We were silent for a long period of time when I finally asked if she were okay. "Sure, no problem." The silence continued. I thought she must have been taking this pretty hard. I knew that I was.
     "Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?"
     "Yeah, why wouldn't I be able to sleep tonight?"
     "THE GAME YOU JUST LOST AND THE WAY YOU LOST IT!"
     "How did we lose it? And why would I lose sleep over a softball game?"
     It turns out that she wasn't upset at all. We just never talk to each other in the car... only I had never noticed it before.
     Anyway, I was a bit surprised the other day when she asked if I would take her out to hit. The season was over and she had never once asked me to take her out to hit. "Sure, no problem." I figured this presented an additional opportunity to spend some more quality time together, and at the same time, not talk to each other.
     So we scrambled to find a few softballs and off we went. I must admit, she was hitting great when she started to complain about her thumb hurting. After about half an hour, she declared that it was broken. I have taken thousand of hours of batting practice and I have thrown thousands of hours of batting practice---I have never seen anybody break their thumb just by swinging a bat.
     She continued to complain over the next day or two, and she and her mother insisted it was swollen. I told them to just wait and it will be fine, but Gracie thinks that a parent's love is measured not in the number of hugs or kisses they give their kids. No. Love is measured by the number of times that parents take their kids to Nighttime Pediatrics. There have been many occasions when Grace has stubbed her toe, nicked herself with a razor, or scraped her cuticle during a manicure, and insisted that we take her to Nighttime
Pediatrics. "You took Noah that one time," is a common phrase we hear. And we always remind her that Noah's leg was broken. "You always use that same lame excuse," she always replies.
     Grace convinced Cheryl to take her to Nighttime Pediatrics to have the thumb x-rayed. It really was quite swollen. Thankfully, no break----but the doctor explained that it was sprained. They put it in a soft removable cast. This was a perfect resolution because it was not broken, but it was injured enough to vindicate a removable brace. Gracie got some Nighttime Pediactric Love, or NPL as we have come to call it.
     As Cheryl was explaining the doctor's findings, she told me that Grace strained the tendons in her thumb. Grace chimed in and said that Mom was downplaying the injury and what the doctor said... The doctor said she suffered a sprain. We explained to Florence Nightingale Junior, that this was the definition of a sprain. No problem, so long as we understood the serious nature of the injury.
    I am happy to report that the brace lasted three days and we expect a full recovery. I hope she gets completely healed because in 364 days, she will have to pick up her glove and start getting ready for the next softball season.