Damaged
I am watching football clips on the iPad with the five-year-old, when I hear a scream.
I sprint toward the source of the sound. I discover the thirteen-year-old lying on the kitchen floor, clutching his foot.
“Fuuuck!” he shouts.
“What happ-”
“Fuuucking cuuunt!”
“Calm down. Have you hurt your foot? Let me see.”
He releases his foot, which has begun to swell.
“Blimey.”
“Fucking shit it’s broken isn’t it? Do something!”
“What did you do?”
“I dropped my fucking laptop on it!”
“How did you do tha-”
“Just fucking help!”
“Alright! Give me your hand. See if you can stand up.”
He grabs my hand for support and tries to stand. He collapses in a heap.
“I can’t fucking stand you dick! Call me a fucking ambulance.”
“I’m not calling an ambulance. We’re two seconds from the hospital. I’ll carry you, come on.”
I sling him over my shoulder and call the five-year-old down.
“Come on, your brother’s hurt his foot. We’re taking him to the hospital.”
“He’s fine.”
“I’m not fucking fine you bitch!”
“He’s not fine, come on. You can bring the iPad.”
“He called me bitch!”
We wait for an hour in A&E, the thirteen-year-old cursing, the five-year-old iPadding. They eventually x-ray his foot and a fracture is revealed.
I call the mother.
“Hi, don’t panic, it’s nothing too serious, we’re just in A&E because _______ dropped his laptop on his foot. He has a fracture, but the nurse says he’ll be fi-”
“What laptop?”
“Huh?”
“What laptop did he drop?”
“Er… I dunno. I think his Macbook thing.”
“Shit. That’s not insured.”
The Male Nanny
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