2 seconds later the sounds of a scooter crashing and Julia crying. We run. Bloody knees, bloody hands, bloody elbows. I thought she’d gone down that hill by herself before. Obviously she hadn’t. Take off her helmet, goose egg on the forehead. Still crying. We’re a mile from the car on the path around the lake so I take off running. Thankfully the asthma is under control. When I reach where they are Julia’s still crying but singing with mommy to try to keep her mind off the booboos. Nose is starting to swell a bit, too, she must have completely face planted. I thought she’d done that hill!
Get home, clean wounds, band aids, medicine, check her pupils. “Guess who gets to sleep with mommy or daddy tonight?” Eating cereal, no more crying, asking if we can play the “throw on the couch” game. “Not tonight, let’s take it easy.” Tough girl, precious little thing, overprotective parents. I was trying to give her a little leash, give her some confidence. Hah! Now it’ll backlash as we’re more nervous than before. What a circle.
I’m just terribly sad. All during that walk around the lake I was simply amazed at Julia. So happy, so inquisitive, so alive. In a heartbeat everything changes.
I thought she’d gone down that goddamned hill before. 
Oh, that’s gotta be rough on you.
Just remember that you probably took a header or two at her age. Next time she really -will- be fine.