Imogen gave us quite a fright the other day - she and Cole were out cycling with D (one of their all time favourite things to do) and doing a favourite offroad bit when Im's front tyre got caught/jammed on a small rock (I'm hearing it 2nd hand and therefore sketchy on the details!) and she went straight over her handlebars, breaking her fall with her head. Ouch. Thankfully she had been playing around before the ride and had put on a spare pair of D's cycling gloves, which she was still wearing, as otherwise the little pudding would have had some seriously skinned palms. I knew something was up when they arrived home only 10 minutes after leaving...Mouse was sobbing, with big fat tears streaking down her filthy face, but she had ridden the whole way home, bless her. As I took off her helmet I noticed a sizeable goose egg on her forehead, but apart from that, some nasty scratches on her chest and feeling pretty sore and upset, she was okay. We all breathed a sigh of relief. And then I looked down at her little helmet:
Oh man. That was clearly some impact. The whole inner was split in 2. Thankfully, the business of cleaning up and comforting my wee patient meant that I got to snuggle and spend extra time kissing all the ouchies, and that precious little head.
Ten days later, I'm happy to report that the only bruise left from the accident is a spectacular black thumbnail (still haven't lost the nail) and a tiny bit of residual scratch on her chest. And our little daredevil is out on her bike as happy as ever, peddling like mad to catch up to the other daredevil...and I feel a little better about being a helmet tyrant. Thankfully it's not something that has ever been anything other than part and parcel of riding in our family - and we remain a family where only one member is missing some skull, phew!
