That expectant look...

We were at Monk's soccer game Saturday morning and I was watching (and helping) Wombat and his friend clamber up and down a tree at the edge of the field. Wombat very quickly got the hang of climbing up and down on the lowest branch, yet soon the inevitable happened and slipping (from climbing down?), he fell the short distance to the ground landing on his back in the grass.

I scooped the crying Wombat up in my arms and attempted to ascertain where the injury(ies) were so that I could - in the regular motherly fashion - kiss them better. I thought that perhaps he had hit his head. But no.

It was soon immediately obvious what his main concern was - he stuck out his tongue, still crying, to reveal 2 or 3 little blood dots along one side and tearily said that he had bit his tongue (or at least that's what I think he said)

Then transfixing me with an expectant look, he continued to look at me steadily, with his tongue still protruding....waiting...

Yeaaaaah, NAH.

Dodgy.

I gave him a hug. And a pat. You'll get over it son.