My eight year old had her first trip to Emerge last night after a fall in our garden.

It was a strange moment while playing four-square with her play date.

Ellie was bragging about really nailing a bounce and as she was twirling and bragging and shouting, “I’m the best four-squarer ever!” or “I’m the squarest four…” or something like that, she tripped over a rock and landed in a pile of mulch.

Our immediate reaction was to giggle because karma appeared to be telling her to keep her ego in check when it came to bouncy-ball games involving rainbow chalk but then she yelped, “I split my leg open!”

Sure enough, she required two stitches just above her knee.

Her biggest concern now is that the weather remains warm so she can wear shorts and have an interesting story to tell when people notice her larger than life bandages. She did ask if she could borrow a pair of crutches but nobody at the hospital was in a very playful mood—including the staff at the registration desk.

I always try to be friendly and answer their questions quickly because I know they have had to go through this same routine 79,000 times before I walked in.

Sometimes I fear the interrogation upon entry is meant to trip me up so I’m ready with my answers. Allergies—no, Medications—no, Eye colour—blue, Immunizations up to date?–check, Hours of Minecraft per day? Well, now that the weather is warming up….

Then the nurse asked me something I wasn’t ready for.

“So her name is Elise?”

Me: Yes.

“But she goes by Kayla?”

Stumped.