The Dangers Of A Crocodile Slide

"Hey Mom?" Emma came up to me the other day. I was in the kitchen and the kids were playing.

"Mom, Ben fell off the crocodile slide and broke his leg." I looked at her calm demeanor and wondered when she grew up on me.

"Oh, man," I exclaimed, "that's too bad. Is he OK?"

"Dr. Grant is taking care of him."

I headed back to my room. The kids have been in the habit lately of stripping our bed, and piling the blankets and pillows off one side to make what they call a crocodile slide. Neither Marty or I like the idea of kids being able to destroy their parents' room, but every time they do this, they play well together, taking turns and getting along without fighting, yelling, screaming, hitting, pulling hair, kicking, whining, or tattling for a good half hour or so, giving me some peace and quiet. So I'm not going to instill the "keep out of Mom and Dad's room" rule just yet.

I found Ben laying on my bed, trying not to giggle as Grant knelt over him with an open pants hanger, and gently placed it around Ben's leg and gave it a slight squeeze.

"All better, Ben!" Grant was proud of his Doctor work.

And Ben got up on his newly-healed broken leg and headed down the crocodile slide once again.

I loved it.

They continued to play Doctor for a while, allowing me to unload and re-load the dishwasher uninterrupted. I could hear them back in my room, and laughed at their game.

"Oh, no! You have a broken arm! Lemme see. I fix it."

"All better!"

"Fank you, Doctor, for fixing me!"

"You're lelcome!"


"I have a broken arm! Can you fix it?"

"No, I can not. You have to go to the kid's hos-i-pal. They fix you real good at the kid's hos-i-pal. And you get bubbles!"

"Yay, we're going to the kid's hospital! Let's go!"

And the kids started marching through the house on their mission to get to the kid's hospital.

I wonder if this is a game that other kids play, or is it just mine? I'm thinking this may not be normal...