As I have mentioned before, as a youngster Robert Jr. was a good little con artist. I’m glad he changed his ways before he grew up, else I don’t know how I would have coped with him.
Sometime in his very early school years (between pre-first and second grade), I don’t remember exactly when, he was at home playing in the yard after school. He fell, so he thought, on a stick and really hurt his right hip and leg.
Robin, his sister just older than he is, came running into the house all excited and said, “Robert has hurt himself, really bad.”
His mother and I rushed outside to see about him, but we couldn’t find a mark on him.
What’s more, we could not find the stick he was supposed to have fallen on.
We carried him indoors and examined him really good but still could not find a thing wrong with him. We asked him to try to stand up, but he couldn’t. He would cry and said that his hip and leg hurt too bad to stand.
The doctor’s office was closed, so we had to carry him to the emergency room. Once inside the emergency room, I sat him on the examining table, and he seemed to feel a lot better. He began asking the nurse questions about all the different items in the emergency room. The nurse answered all of his questions, and by this time he seemed to be in perfect health. The doctor was not on duty, and I saw no need in calling one in to check on a boy in perfect health. We settled up with the hospital and took Robert Jr. home.
The next afternoon after school, Robert Jr. was telling his mother that only two children in his class at school had ever been to the emergency room…and now he was the third one.
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