I failed to get pictures, but Squirrel has spent the last week spectacularly dinged up. Amazingly so, in fact. She was running like toddlers run ... gleefully, with hands in the air. And she tripped over her little too-big-for-a-two-year-old feet. And she fell. And bounced. On her face. Twice. It was sort of painful to watch. As a result she had ... a fat lip. a slightly blackened eye. a knot in the middle of her forehead. a cut under her nose. a scuffed up tip of her nose. a scrape running under her left eye and over her cheek bone. a small scuff over the knot on her forehead.
And a Hello Kitty Bandaid over a bruise, because we couldn't put it over the locations that were actually bleeding.
And so I endured the scorn of my Mother in Law, who thinks we allow her to do too much. And I stared at the still un marked face of Baby Boy, and realized that next year at this time, he will be a walking dinged up machine. And became slightly sad that I will likely never have another perfect-skinned gorgeous baby.
And I was once again grateful that no one called social services. Cause she really looked bad. That's what happens when you bounce. Twice.
But then, 5 days later when she fell at my sister's? She tried to catch herself. And instead of adding to the scratches on her face? She scuffed up two elbows and her rib cage. Good girl. She's learning.