Escaping the heat of the outside, I sat in my cool, cool house, on my couch that sucks a person into its cushions and won't let go. So nice. When the front door opened, an entire three dollars of cold got pulled outside, never to be seen again. My youngest son came in, closing the door obediently behind him. "Mom, can I go to my friend's house?"
Looking at his adorable freckled face, it was hard NOT to notice the quarter-sized bump under his eye that had already begun to purple. "What happened to your eye?" I asked, demanding the couch release its hold on me so I could fix whatever was wrong with my baby.
My baby blinked in thought. Then blinked again.
"Oh! I was jumping on the neighbor's trampoline and I tried to do a backflip and I landed on my head and my knee hit me in the eye. I didn't even cry. Can I go to my friend's house?"
Obviously he hadn't cried! He couldn't even remember what had blackened his eye!
Like any good mother, I immediately grabbed my phone and took a picture. Part of me couldn't stop smiling because he looked so stinkin' cute. And a little bit sad. I texted that picture to his father, explaining what made him look like a six year-old pugilist.
My husband's response was, "I hate trampolines."
My response was to take more pictures.
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