In which Baby J surfs down the giant wall on his stroller

So, here's the story. M and I were at a baseball game with my family, and for fun, we rode the train and a bus to the game. Takes longer, but enjoyed by all. We were AT the game (at least an hour away from our house) when I got a call from partner, who frantically told me the story of what had happened that evening.

He had gotten the stroller out to take J to the store to get something, set the brake at the top of our giant hill, and leaned back into the car to get the garage door opener. Then he heard, "You've got to catch it!" and saw J rolling, standing up on the stroller, down the hill, over the retaining wall (two levels), and on to the ground. He jumped down the bank and picked up screaming J, and took him to children's where they checked for head injuries and such, and x-rays, and he ended up having a broken arm. Or, a buckled arm, which is what they call it when their little bones are still flexible and don't quite break, but bend instead. Either way, he got a cast in Lightning McQueen red and a teeny little sling that I can't quite get over, the teeny-ness, and the trooper-ness of the little guy wearing it.