Sometimes when it rains it pours — both figuratively and literally.

Morgan’s 11th birthday party was last Sunday. The weather report for the past two weeks (and the next 2 months) was “dry and hot.” Literally, our local weatherman said, “It’s going to be hot and dry for the next three months.” So we scheduled a pool party for the end of June for Morgan, and an hour before the party was set to start, storm clouds rolled in.

Again — in Oklahoma, in the middle of summer, in the middle of a heat wave.

You just haven’t lived until you’ve tried to explain to twenty kids in bathing suits that they can’t swim in the city pool you rented. The danger of course was not the rain itself, but lightning. Each time the lifeguards spotted a lightning strike off in the distance they reminded us that no one could swim for 30 minutes. After several false promises, it was determined that there would be no swimming at all. We made the best of things by eating cupcakes, opening presents, and playing games, but it was all a bit anticlimactic.

Even though the kids seemed to have a good time, it was still a little disappointing that nobody got to swim. But, since Morgan’s birthday was really Tuesday, we had another chance at making things great.

Then, this happened.

No, that’s not Morgan’s collarbone — it’s Mason’s. Mason had a friend spend the night and asked if the two of them could ride the golf kart. “Yes, just don’t do anything dumb,” were my exact words. When the two of them returned, all I could say was, “your definition of dumb differs from mine.”

The hospital confirmed that Mason’s collarbone was broken, not in one place, but two. They scheduled us for a follow up with an orthopedic surgeon, and said to expect “surgery for pins and plates,” although that has since changed. Because Mason is still growing, the surgeon suggested we wait a couple of weeks to see if the bone manages to heal itself first.

With Mason in pain and changing doctors appointments, we weren’t sure if we were going to be able to have Morgan’s birthday dinner or not. Ultimately we did, even though Mason’s pain medication wore off about the time we arrived. He’s being a real trooper.

So, a belated 11th birthday to Morgan, and a “get better soon” for Mason. Mason’s injury has cast a cloud of doubt on our swimming and snorkeling vacation next week.