I’m glad we got the boys’ picture with Santa on Monday night.
On Tuesday morning, we went on a playdate at a friend’s house, and LittleBrother decided to smack his face off the decorative stair woodwork. It bruised immediately. It had a great big goose egg on it for awhile as he sat on my lap while I held a dish towel with ice in it to his poor little face. Eventually, he calmed down and wanted to go play with the kids again.
As he walked away, one of my friends said, “Is his other eye kind of black too?”
No, his other eye is not black. I giggled and explained his pale skin and his eye shape. I laughed. He finally has a black eye. Right before Christmas. Awesome.
The best part is that it should get worse before it gets better, so he may have some leftover black eyed-ness for Christmas.
I promise there’s only one black eye in this photo.
He thinks it’s kind of funny, especially when FireDad taught him the word “shiner.” Over snack this afternoon, he asked BigBrother if he has ever had a black eye. “I don’t think so.” He took a bite of his snack. “That means I’m better than you at something.”
Awesome, boys. Awesome.
