Kyle was originally hesitant to let you climb the tallest tree in the park, sighing to himself as he watched your little legs excitedly toddle toward the trunk of the tree. Having a preschooler wasn’t that hard, occasional tantrums thrown and extra clothes washed, but he survived it.

Kyle had promised himself he wouldn’t be like one of the helicopter parents when his child first started walking and talking, but his protective dad instincts are always on high alert every time he allows you to do something new—like now. “Careful!” He shouts, still a few metres behind you as he watches you put your foot on top of the first branch. You’re barely even above the ground and he’s freaking out.

He watches as you climb higher, almost reaching the top. He places his hands on his hips, sweat already lining his forehead from watching you climb; in his mind you were sitting in a damn skyscraper and not a tree, but your newly found excitement for climbing instantly falters when you see how high up you are, smile dropping and stomach sinking.

Kyle curses under his breath. “It’s okay, just climb back down again.” He encourages, extending his arms out to you, but when you step down on the lower branch your foot slips. Kyle doesn’t even register what has happened until he hears the shriek and the crack of you landing on your arm. Your arm is pretty much lopsided, and the both of you are freaking out; your dad does manage to compose himself and call an ambulance.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” He grumbles under his breath as he follows the paramedics wheeling you, his weeping child through the hospital corridors. “It’s okay, baby hang in there!” He exclaims as they take you to a room to get you fixed up.