Busy night last night--I got off my bike and the kids next door wanted me to run races with them. First, we had ice cream.
Eddie asked me what flavor I like. Coffee, I said. "That's cool!" he said with great enthusiasm. "I like vanilla and strawberry!" We played rock/paper/scissors with our free hands while eating ice cream cones. They use a different order, though. They call "Paper! Scissors! Rock!"
Then we ran races down the sidewalk and played hide and seek. We were joined by a litte girl from across the street--that's a nice family I haven't met yet, but her dad and I smiled at each other from across the street. Her brother couldn't come because he's too small to cross the street by himself.
The oldest girl on the first floor south of me had a nasty bruise on her hand--her little brother hit her (he must have hit her with a stick or something, and I think by accident). I was worried she sprained her finger. We need a first-aid class in Spanish for the moms. Her hand was bound up in a ribbon (I think that's bad)--the second floor neighbor put a hot cream on it (something from Mexico--I don't know if it was like Ben-Gay or worse), and then she was massaging the kid's hand. The poor girl was crying in pain.
I suggested ice and her mother went in and came back out with some ice cubes in a bowl, and put her daughter's hand right in it. She started crying again, no surprise.
"No, no," I said. "Voy a volver." (I'm coming back.) I went in my house and got a clean dish towel, wet it a little and put the ice in that. Then I went back and told the girl to just rest her hand on the cloth and when it got too cold, take it away, and when her hand got too hot or too painful, put it back.
I tried to convince the other neighbor not to massage her hand but I don't know if the message got through. Fortunately I heard later they were going to take her to the doctor. I don't know if that meant they were going to go sit in the emergency room somewhere. A lot of people here can't afford doctors.
I had to excuse myself to go see if Isabel was home and make a haircut appointment. The bad news was she wasn't there, but the good news was her husband gave mer her cell number and we made an appointment for Saturday. So I'll have nice hair in time for the big Su Casa wedding on Saturday.
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