"He broke it."

Everywhere I go right now, I get the question "What happened to his leg?" This, of course, is a fairly understandable question given that my 18 month old has a huge blue cast on his left leg. However, I don't know exactly how to respond. I usually just say "He broke it." and keep moving. But, that seems obvious, right? I mean, why else would he be wearing a cast!?!? Sometimes Usually, what I am really thinking is "He broke it, dummy."

Seth informs me that what people are really asking is how he broke his leg. They want a story. They want to know a piece of our history. They want to connect with us. Seth has explained this fact about southern folk to me many times, and yet I still struggle with it. I mean, I understand friends asking for the story. "Friends" defined as people we see regularly, meet with on some occasional basis, have something in common with, something. Even knowing their name would be a step in the right direction! 

The stranger in the grocery store, the other stranger at the restaurant we happen to be eating at, the other stranger we pass at church... These people are not my friend. By definition, they are strangers. Why do they want to know how my son broke his leg? They want to "connect" with someone they've never met and will likely never see again!? Seth tells me that the answer they are looking for involves an explanation. Something that would be carried out in a paragraph format. Not a one-liner. (He dislikes when I give the one-line answers to strangers.)

In addition to disliking that people want me to share my personal business with them (and the fact that they seem to have no qualms about asking sensitive/personal questions of complete strangers!), why don't they ask the correct question? I mean, if "How did he break his leg?" is the question they want answered, why aren't they asking it!? We have never once been asked that, though. They simply ask "What happened to his leg?" That question, in my honest opinion, is a different answer than what they are actually looking for. At least, what they are looking for according to my husband.

Besides, I don't want to stop and give each person that sees the cast an explanation. (If Seth and I are together when we get the question, he stops to address it and I keep moving.) Can't these people see I have my hands full here with a toddler in a full-leg cast!? The last thing I want to do at this moment is to sit and connect with a perfect stranger about my son's broken leg. Additionally, it's a bit of a complicated story. I can't simply respond with "He fell out of a truck and broke it." I could respond with "He sat down and broke his leg in the process." But I'm afraid that would evoke more questions from people, and I don't want to be standing here answering the first one, let alone a string of MORE questions.

If my "He broke it." answer leaves the person clearly dissatisfied, I'll sometimes add "It's called a Toddler's Fracture. Google it." Or I'll add "He cracked his tibia." I rarely go into the story of how it happened. I might say "It's not a very exciting story, just a broken leg." and then will pull myself away from them. Because even though Seth (and others) has explained to me that this is southern peoples' way of being polite, I can't come to see it that way. I would NEVER ask a stranger about something they are eating or wearing or doing or whatever. I don't go up to people in casts and ask them how they broke their bone. I don't ask wheelchair-bound people what put them there. I don't ask the super-pregnant lady when she's due or what she's having. 

I would, however, allow any of the above to cut in front of me in line or hold the door for them. Something useful, not intrusive. It conveys that I see their situation but asks no questions. It might even convey sympathy. They don't owe me any information and my asking about it might be a bother to them like it would be to me. (That, I think, is the North/South difference in a nutshell.) Plus, I don't care when Stranger Lady is due or what she's having. I don't mean that in an ugly way. I just simply don't. care. It doesn't impact my life one way or another, so why would I seek the information?

So, do me a favor? Just once? The next time you're prompted to ask the-lady-with-casted-toddler in-tow what happened, opt instead to simply hold the door for her. I'm sure that she will appreciate it more than a single question about what happened.  And for those about to give me a lecture about social graces and being polite to everyone, including strangers, or remind me how much I love Emily Post, etc. Save it. I assure you that my sweet southern husband has tried. I can't do it. I won't do it. I can't become a complete southerner. WE won the war, you know. ;-) Besides, I always make sure to say it with a smile and twinkle in my eye. Right before I turn and keep walking.

Oh, and the story about Austin's leg? It really is quite boring. Here it is:

He was walking around in our walk-in closet which has shaggy-type carpet (the only place in the house where we have that kind). He stubbed his right toe on the carpet (he was still wearing his shoes), stepped over to the right with his left leg, in order to catch himself, and he sat down. Hard. He ended up sitting in an Indian-style fashion, crying. My immediate thought was "Stop crying. You just sat down. You didn't fall off anything. That was the wimpiest fall you've had in your lifetime. I can't believe you're crying." I think I then told him something along those lines, and since we were past due for a nap already anyway, I immediately took him to his room. He slept for 4 hours. When he woke up, he wouldn't put weight on his left leg. At first I thought it might just be asleep since he napped for so long, but when hours later he still wouldn't, we knew something was up. Broken-ness, though, was still VERY far from our minds. I mean, I saw the 'fall.' It was probably a 2 on a 1-10 scale, and he's had MUCH worse. I thought he maybe twisted his ankle (which I know from personal experience is VERY painful). Seth looked it up online and found a viral inflammation of the hip joint and thought that was it. (Oh, he had also come down with a rash that afternoon.) Lucky for us, we already had an 18 month Well Child Visit scheduled for 8am the next morning. (It was after 6pm when he got up from his nap.) When his pediatrician couldn't determine the cause and Ibuprofen didn't change things, he referred us to a pediatric podiatrist (say that out loud 5 times fast! ;-) That afternoon, we got an x-ray which confirmed a break in the lower tibia known as a Toddler's Fracture. We came home with his navy blue cast which he had to wear for 4 weeks. (We only have 1.5 weeks left at this point, though! woohoo!)