the cast on molly's right arm is a result of an injury she sustained during a football match played in our living room. while nobody is exactly sure what happened (and the instant replay was not operational because the usual camera operator was involved in play), it seems molly was hit in the wrist by a sofa-cushion meant to depict an oncoming defensive tackle.

there were a few tears, but nothing significant. an additional spill later the same night, caused by running with too much enthusiasm and tripping over the step from the hall into the living room, may or may not have contributed to her condition.

the following morning it wasn't her slightly cranky mood that gave it away, rather that awkward way she was holding her right arm all the time - away from her body and slightly stiff, the way you hold your arm when you won't want to use it or put pressure on it because it hurts.

we made a family journey to the children's hospital, where molly was probed and poked and prodded by all kinds of strangers; nurses, interns, radiologists and doctors. she was a brave girl and did not cry once, not from boredom in the waiting room, nor fear in the x-ray suite, nor surprise during the plastering. granted, it's a mild fracture. but that's a lot for a little two-year old athlete to endure. molly was a real trooper.