These photos commemorate one of the last days of the splinted knee, which happened to coincide with Kevin’s favourite time of the year, the first round of the hockey playoffs when there’s a game on every night, and our television is tuned to it. First round doesn’t seem to be over yet, but the splint is officially off, the knee officially healed (I keep asking, “Okay, so the bone is completely, totally healed, like it’s not going to break apart if someone bumps into it?” and Kevin keeps saying, “Uh, yah, that’s what the surgeon said.”). In fact, after six weeks of not bending his leg, AT ALL, it’s time to do the opposite and figure out how to get it to bend readily again. (“So, if it’s all healed,” I asked, “why wouldn’t you be playing soccer this summer?” And he replied, “Because I can’t, um, run. At all.” “But you can bend your knee now.” “Well, in theory, I can bend my knee, but it doesn’t bend more than ten degrees right now.”) Right.