You can jump on haybales....
Maybe do a little fishing....
Play with your bovine brother....
Pet a chicken....
Ride an emu.....
Yeah, that's right, ride an emu. Apparently, Dakota had read somewhere about the ostrich racing and figured emus were a close enough relative of an ostrich that she could hop on and go for a ride. So that's what she did. From her account of the story, the male emu, Elvis, had no problem with her hopping on his back and took her for a nice stroll around the barnyard. However, it was when she got on Priscilla, the girl emu, that things migrated south. Somehow I was in the house blissfully unaware that my only daughter was riding emus, bareback none the less. Not really sure if anyone else has ever attempted to ride an emu, much less create a saddle for emu-riding. Anyway, it wasn't until Dakota came running in the house crying and clutching her hand, that I was aware of history being made in our barnyard, the first emu rodeo. Here's a reenactment of the conversation between Dakota and I:
Dakota: "MOOOOOOOMMY, I BROKE MY LITTLE FINGER!!" slightly hysterical
Me: "Let me see. What happened?"
Dakota: "I was riding an emu and...
Me: "Wait, you were RIDING an emu?!?"
Dakota: "Yes. So I rode Elvis and then I got on Priscilla, except she wasn't as good as Elvis, and instead of walking nicely she took off running and going crazy and she..she.. (crocodile tears) she bucked me off. (waaaaaa!!!!)"
Me: "So you actually RODE on Elvis? How fun was that?!? What made you think about riding an emu?"
Dakota: "Yes it was fun until Priscilla. Haven't you ever heard of ostrich racing? It's just like that, just with emus. But Priscilla, BROKE my finger! She bucked me off and I landed on it!"
Me: "Oh right, your finger, let me see. Ouch, does look swollen but it's probably just jammed."
Dakota: "No, it's not jammed. I've had a broken finger before, remember tae kwon do? I know what broken feels like."
Me: "Yeah ok Doogie Howser, but I really don't think it's broken, let's just put some ice on it."
And then she spent the next 3 hours of her life telling us that her finger was broken and being slightly melodramatic saying things like, "I'm not eating supper, when you have a broken finger you just don't feel like eating...(heavy sigh)" or "I can't drink because how will I hold the cup and I'm just so clumsy with my left hand..guess I'll just go thirsty..(heavy sigh)." It got to a point where we finally had to implement the 30 minute finger ban, meaning she wasn't allowed to mention her finger, it's brokenness, or how awful her parents are for not immediately rushing her to the ER for her alleged broken finger. That of course, did not stop her from asking every 2 minutes if it had been 30 minutes yet. Finally, 3 1/2 hours later we told her the "30 Minute" ban was lifted. ;)
GI Joe and I were convinced it was just jammed and was not broken so figured we'd just see how it was in a day or so. The next day, a Sunday, she showed everyone at church her "broken finger" and asked them to please put her on the prayer chain and also asked them to refer her to DHS to file a grievance against her parents. By Sunday night, we still didn't think it was broken but it definitely was swollen and bruising so we thought we should protect it before she went to school on Monday. If nothing else, to avoid having the nurse call us 17 times on Monday to tell us that Dakota was in her office again complaining of a broken finger.
So we splinted it.......
With a popsicle stick!
She wasn't all that impressed with our ingenuity but was very concerned that her finger be kept straight so as to avoid living the rest of her life with a deformed and crooked pinky, thanks to her horrible parents who didn't take her to the doctor.
She went to school on Monday and told all of her friends that she broke her finger riding an emu. She came home more than a little irritated because a) most of them didn't even know what an emu was! b) even after she explained what they were and that we have them as pets they didnt' believe she actually rode one and c) they thought she was faking the whole finger thing since she was wearing a popsicle stick splint that smelled a little like a fudgesicle. So now she's THAT girl, thanks to us.
I'm happy to report that it's now been 9 days and she's no longer wearing the popsicle stick split and the swelling and bruising in her finger has gone down considerably. Therefore proving us right, that it wasn't broken. Of course, she rebutts with, "It's still broken, right here (pointing to her supposed hairline fracture in her lower knuckle), it's just starting to heal so I can use it again." And I have no doubt that for the rest of her life she'll be all, "Remember the time I BROKE my finger riding an emu?" And we're just gonna have to smile and nod because heaven forbid we correct her and say it was just jammed because her response, "Well, how would you know, you DIDN'T EVEN TAKE ME TO A DOCTOR?"
I think we've proven yet again, what awesome parents we are.