My son has taken it upon himself to be the one who, when we visit the in-laws, opens the gate for us to drive through when its time to leave. Usually with the van sitting there, waiting for him. Last night, when he went to perform this task, he was poking along even more slowly than usual, playing with some toy or other.
So … because I am me … I decided to hurry him along a little by honking the horn. At which point he jumped about three feet in the air and (I swear this was not funny, I don’t know why I’m still laughing) landed in the rose bushes.
The wife was not amused. The son was definitely not amused. Not even the daughter was amused. Me? Amused. Still amused. Felt bad when I saw the scratches on his hand (they were tiny, very tiny), but still … that sight of him jumping and flailing? Still amused.
I am very sorry and I promise to pay for his therapy.