I'm sure you're fine. Or not.

Unless the bone is sticking out, there is bodily fluid pouring from every orifice of your body, or you are losing blood to the point of requiring a transfusion, my typical response to "medical whining" is "Let's just watch it. Put some ice on it. I'm sure you're fine."

And that's what I told Cooper Thursday night when he fell off his bike and complained the rest of the night about his hand.

"Let's just watch it. Put some ice on it. I'm sure you're fine."

And that's what I told Cooper Friday morning when he complained about his hand.

"Let's just watch it. Put some ice on it. I'm sure you're fine."

And that's what the school office told Cooper later Friday morning when he complained about his hand.

"Let's just watch it. Put some ice on it. I'm sure you're fine."

And then his finger doubled in size and turned three shades of purple.

And the school called me and the Captain brought him to my office and we got an x-ray and a diagnosis of a cracked bone in his hand.

And a cast for two weeks.

He picked orange.

No comment.

Yes, it's his right hand. Yes, he's right handed. As if nine-year old boys are challenged at the dinner table and in the bathroom enough with both hands, let's go ahead and put a cast on the dominant hand. No comment.

Anyhoo...he'll be fine.

He'll be proud to show his cast off at school today. And he's sporting Josh Pastner's signature -- we saw him at the U of M women's volleyball game yesterday - So that's cool.

The weekend was full of lots of stuff and things and teenage social events. And almost every emotion known to man. And a migraine. And a Hog win. But it did not include rest or laundry or grocery shopping. So that's kind of where we are.

Tired. Sporting an orange cast. And staring Monday in the face.