Conversations with My Son Over Abrasions

Today's guest post is from Mary of The Fish Pond, whom Michael and I had the most terrific playdate with her and her FOUR amazingly well behaved children. Enjoy!!
Today Little Man was supposed to go down the street to the next row of
townhouses, to his friend's house, to play, but he didn't make it
there. He decided to ride his scooter instead, the scooter he isn't
supposed to touch without his helmet on, and he went ass-over-teakettle
onto the sidewalk.
This came to my attention via the screams as he hoisted himself up and limped into the house.
They weren't the typical hurt screams, more the "I'm pissed off and
embarrassed and somebody better make my world right" kind of screams,
so I wasn't alarmed. I brought him in, sat him down in a chair, and ran
for the cold wet paper towels.
He had a good case of road rash on his left knee, so we dabbed at the spot where
his skin used to be, and in between his winces and twitches and howls I
asked him what happened.
"I was going too fast," he said, breathing out with a whoosh. "I fell like this." He
does the disco hand-roll thing with his arms. "Here, let me do it." He
took the paper towel and held it on his knee.
"How'd you roll like that? Were you running?"
"No, Mooooom, I was on my scooter."
"Your scooter?! Where's your helmet?" Now I was getting pissed.
"Moooom, I don't need my helmet."
"We've had this discussion before. No helmet, no scooter."
"Oh,I'm alright." He looks alright, so I go back to folding laundry while
he sits, talking to me about a Wii game, holding the paper towel to his
knee. Then he stretches a bit.
"Mom, my shoulder hurts," he whines. I lean over to look at his shoulder as my
brain immediately jumps to dislocation, though he wouldn't have sat
there that long with a dislocated shoulder, and as I do I happen to see
his elbow, also rashed up and bloody and needing cleanup. I helped him
out of his shirt as he shrieked in pain. Another rash, another bloody
mess, another wad of wet paper towels, this time for the back of his
shoulder. No dislocation. My heartrate slows to normal.
"Dude. You hit your shoulder there? You are SO LUCKY you didn't hit your head. No more scooter without the helmet."
"But Mom, I'm fine."
"But Mom, nothin'." I hear my mother's words come out of my mouth. "No more."
I stop and thank the powers that be that someone was watching out for him today.