MY YOUNGEST daughter must be super clumsy or is crazy about ice packs.
I receive at least two sick bay incident notifications a week from school for Maya.
And there’s always a pattern.
‘‘Maya came across for an ice pack as she bumped her head on a pole. She was happy to take the ice pack and return to play.’’
‘‘Maya knocked her head on the monkey bars and came across for an ice pack. She was happy to take it with her and return to play.’’
‘‘Maya bumped heads with another child and asked for an ice pack and ...’’ you guessed it ‘‘she was happy to take it and return to play’’.
I’m starting to get a little concerned she is bumping her head on purpose so she can spend some much-needed time with her beloved ice pack.
Because, can she really be that accident-prone?
I guess she is related to me.
And I have certainly had a few doozies over the years.
Spraining my ankle six weeks before heading to Italy and Greece. Which I didn’t injure playing sport, running a marathon or jumping out of a plane.
No, all I did was step down into my garage and land awkwardly on my ankle.
Another freak accident was when I broke my toe at year 12 camp by walking into the back of my friend (I may have been gazing at Mr Muscles who happened to be walking by without a shirt).
Oh, and my favourite, cutting my forehead open on the edge of a wine glass during a fit of laughter.
I threw my head back so forcefully, when it came back it had nowhere else to go but forward — smashing into the wine glass, shattering it and my poor forehead.
Lucky I had consumed most of its contents, dulling the throbbing pain.
I still have the scar to prove it.
Maybe I should leave that story out of my repertoire.
Anyhoo, if I had any advice for Maya it would be this.
Bumps and bruises make for funny stories down the track.