I don't like Mondays

Here's what was supposed to happen this morning:
I was going to sleep until about 8, have  a leisurely breakfast, and leave for the Roque at about 9 to show a group of students from Suffolk university around the observatory until about 4pm. I've enjoyed the group in previous years, and since it's all day the money's nice too.  Besides, this year I was rather hoping to sell them some books.

Here's what actually happened:
I woke up at 6:45 am when I heard a dull thud from my son's bedroom, followed by "Owwwwww!"

Oddly enough, I thought I'd better investigate.

The poor lad had been getting out of bed, still dozy, when the alarm clock went off and made him jump. Somehow that made him fall.  Result - one broken bedside lamp and a very sore wrist.

So I got dressed, gulped down a coffee, and took him to the emergency room. There was no queue at all, but we hit the shift change.  Anyway, the first doctor examined him, and sent him off for an X-ray.  Then we came back to the emergency room and waited for the result to come back. I thought I might just make it to the Roque anyway. Then I thought again, and called my boss, and explained the situation.  He said he'd be able to get up there in time.

So we waited for the X-ray results.  And waited and waited, and waited.

Eventually they came back, and he didn't have a fracture.  So they put on a bandage instead, and told us to keep it dry.  No biggie.

We left the hospital at 10 am, just slightly too late for me to have made it to work.  Ah well, my son's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more important.

By then, the rest of his school timetable for the day would have been two hours of English (unnecessary, because his English is better than the teacher's), PE (I don't think so!) and artistic drawing, which would have been very tricky.  So we went to the optician's instead, which we've been meaning to fit in for a month.

Again, it could have been a lot worse.