Yesterday the monkey fell off something. Given the monkey's lifestyle, which involves much climbing things and running into things, this could not really be described as a surprise. But, unfortunately, he broke his arm and had to have surgery and stay in the hospital overnight. Ugh. Inconveniently, Monkeydad is in Hawaii at the moment.
So last night after work I hung out with the monkey for an hour and a half while Tall L went home, showered, and collected the preferred stuffed animals and comfy clothes. The monkey had pins in one arm, an IV in the other, and a healthy whine all over. And, really, who can blame him. Most of the time I was there, he was either asleep or transfixed by the Jimmy Neutron DVD, which was good, because the rest of the time he was saying "I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home!"
I took a three-pronged approach: sympathy [I know, monkey, I'm sorry]; reason [when you feel better you can go home. you can go home tomorrow. when are you going home? tomorrow. see the sky outside? it's getting dark! that means it's almost night! and after night is tomorrow!]; and pudding. Pudding was the most effective. Tall L and her mom (who flew in last night) told me I pretty much have the parenting thing down.
The latest news is that they expect to be discharged very soon.