he's got more chance of blowing his brains out with my electric mixer than surviving a skateboard.

Jack is finally back on his feet, and his leg is no longer hurting him anymore, which means I don't have to waste any more paper writing notes to his PE teacher. 


The only bad thing about the fact that he is fully mobile again is, well, that he is fully mobile again.


Don't get me wrong, I'm over the moon that he's better again, but that also means that he is probably going to make me suffer now. I'll give you an example of what happened last night after school.


"Mommy, is it Friday today?" he asked as he glared at the bike which was situated in the hallway. 
"Um, yeah, it is... why?"
"Weekend!!" 


At this point I was like, 'okay...' 


"Yeah, it's the weekend, honey. What do you want to do tomorrow?" I asked.


Jack thought about this for a moment.


"Mommy, please say yes..."


Oh, God.


"That depends, Jack. What do you want me to say yes to...?"


Jack held my hands, kissed my cheek and hugged me (suck-ass) before saying, "I want a skateboard, Mommy."


SHIT.


"You want a skateboard? But you just got a bike."


"Bike is evil. I want a skateboard. Please Mommy!"


I actually considered it, which is pretty weird of me.


"Sorry, Jack, but I'm not getting you a skateboard."


"Why not?!" 


I could see a tantrum emerging.


"Because a) you only just got a bike, which cost hundreds of dollars, and b) if you hurt yourself on a bike, you're going to probably re-e-e-e-ally hurt yourself on a skateboard, honey."


Jack thought about this. If he had a beard, he'd be stroking it.


"Okay..."


He got up and walked out of the room.


Finally, peace. I turned the volume up on my Nurse Jackie box-set and relaxed back on the couch. 


Then Jack's head peeped round the doorway again.


"Mommy, what about a motorcycle?"


Whoa, back up the truck. Did my son just ask for a motorcycle? I hope I'm just fucking hearing things, otherwise I'll go freak-o.