[Parenting Incident Report] My left arm won't move!? The story of how I was completely defeated by a 3-year-old's great acting (clown) on New Year's Day
Happy New Year. How did everyone spend their New Year's holidays?
I set a cool goal for 2026 to "create something of value," but in reality, the start of my 2026 began with being toyed with by a "little clown."
Today, please bear with me as I share this New Year's Day incident from our home.
A lively New Year's Day, the incident happened on the tatami mats
Our home on New Year's Day was incredibly lively with all our relatives gathered. My mother, my sister's family, my cousin's family... The background music was the laughter of adults and the sound of children running around.
We have a 7-year-old eldest son, a 5-year-old eldest daughter, a 3-year-old second son, and a 1-year-old second daughter. As usual, my back was a jungle gym for the kids. It was the hard-mode version of "horsey ride."
When I stood up shouting "Whoa!", the kids riding on my back would slide off while screaming with joy. Among them, only my 3-year-old second son was desperately clinging to both of my legs.
Lifted to the height of my knees, the second son was swaying back and forth. He was laughing, saying "I won't fall!", but he finally ran out of strength and plopped onto the tatami.
It seems he hit his left arm a little when he fell.
"Waaaaah!"
The crying echoed. With teary eyes, he said, "It huuuuurts, it huuuuurts." Well, it's tatami, so he should be fine. After comforting him for a while, he stopped crying and even laughed.
However. The moment he saw his mother's (my wife's) face, he started crying again as if a switch had been flipped and kept repeating that it hurt.
The memory of a "dislocation" resurfaces
At this point, an unpleasant memory flashed back into my and my wife's minds.
It was when our eldest son was about 2 or 3 years old. He had fallen from the sofa in the same way and dislocated his arm. The way he cried back then, and his arm hanging limply. "Could it be... again?"
Once I thought that, I couldn't sit still. It was evening. Since it was New Year's Day, most hospitals were closed. The second son had stopped crying, but we couldn't take any chances. I took my cute-faced second son and drove to a hospital that was providing emergency care on New Year's Day.
The suspicious waiting room and the "impenetrable guard"
In the car, I had a sneaking suspicion. (Wait? Didn't he move his left arm normally when we left the house earlier?)
We arrived at the hospital, and the doctor performed a physical examination. "Hmm, it doesn't look broken. He's moving it." The doctor was also tilting his head in confusion.
Then, bored, my second son started messing with me in the waiting room. Laughing, he reached out his right arm in front of my face.
I jokingly pretended to "chomp" on his arm.
Then, the second son instantly raised his 'left arm' to guard my face. That movement was so agile. So smooth.
(...Hey, it's moving perfectly fine, isn't it?)
That was the moment my suspicion turned into certainty in my heart.
Tears in the X-ray room and a 20:00 confession
From the X-ray room, where we had to go just in case, I could hear him crying, "It hurts~!" But now I understand. It wasn't that his arm hurt. He was just "scared of the big, strange machine."
In the end, we waited another hour for the diagnosis. It was past 8:00 PM. Perhaps tired, the second son started throwing a tantrum, saying, "I want to go home..."
I sat him on my lap and asked quietly.
"Hey, it doesn't actually hurt, does it?"
The second son looked at my face intently and nodded slightly. "Yeah..."
──Confession secured.
A doting parent, but a relieved ride home
What a great performance. Did he want the attention of the adults? Did he want to be spoiled by his mom? I was beyond stunned and started laughing at the little clown who had dragged me to the emergency hospital on New Year's Day and wasted several hours.
"Geez, you're such a troublemaker."
As I said that and picked him up, he felt light as a feather. While feeling that lightness, which seemed to reflect his lack of injury, a warm sense of relief spread through my heart.
"I'm glad it wasn't a dislocation." "I'm glad it wasn't a fracture."
The fact that he started telling lies is also proof of his growth and intelligence. ...Let's just go with that.
On New Year's night, my second son wrapped his arms around my neck with his perfectly functional left arm. 2026 looks like it's going to be a lively and fun year after all.
I look forward to your continued support for me and my family, even with me being such a "doting parent" this year.