Just flew back in from London yesterday to discover Jake had taken a nasty fall earlier that morning on the way to school.

While running with Rachel and some of their friends, he tripped over somebody’s feet and landed face-first on the ground. He didn’t even have time to raise his hands to protect himself.

Right now, he’s got a glowing red cut on his forehead and his cheekbone and nose are scraped and raw-looking. Poor little fella.

Unlike his sister, Jake doesn’t do drama. Apparently he was quite upset after the fall, but as he was getting cleaned off he calmed down and got over it very quickly. Even talking to me about it later, he was very matter of fact - yes his face was sore, but no it wasn’t worth getting upset over.

Compare and contrast with big sister who just the other day cried for half an hour because I accidentally bumped her with a football!

So for the moment, Jake looks like the Terminator with half his face off. I keep expecting to see slivers of metal glinting in the light. And all either Lisa or I can say at the moment is “Poor little fella.”

Jake’s been in funny form this evening, unsettled in his bed and crying out loud. Nothing we can do seems to console him and whenever I try to deal with him he kicks and screams. Just wants his mum at the moment.

Anyway, a bit earlier on, I realised that he might be hungry and Lisa thought he might have stomach cramps. Well, he didn’t bother to eat his dinner, did he? Could be trapped wind or something, so we brought him downstairs for a drink of milk and a piece of toast.

While I slaved over a hot toaster, Lisa sat on the dining room sofa, tentatively asking Jake what was wrong.

“Are you hungry?” (nods head)

“Are you thirsty?” (nods head) 

“Are you sick?” (nods head)

“Are you sore?” (nods head - are you detecting a pattern here?)

“Is your head sore? Your belly? Your bum?” The line of questioning looked like it was going to last forever. I said to Lisa, “You’re leading the witness. Ask him what’s wrong, but don’t put ideas in his head.” And just to prove my point - because we’re both irritating like that - I asked him “Jake. Do you have leprosy?”

(nods head)