Proud of his bloody nose
Thursday, March 12th, 2009
Lovebug is a master at knowing exactly when I’m distracted. We live in a big house with all hard wood and lots of nooks and crannies to get into. Me: Lovebug, I’m going to take a shower; what are the rules? Lovebug: No going upstairs, no going outside. Me: Ok, I’ll be right back. Lovebug: Mama, you didn’t ask…. Me: What’s going to happen if you break the rules? Lovebug: You’re going to give me a time out. Me: Right - be good! Yes Mama! Lovebug: Yes Mama. I haven’t come up with rules for when I go fetch the mail, use the toilet, make a meal or anything that requires me to leave the room Lovebug is in. It seems during those moments he is the naughtiest. Today was no exception. As I flushed the toilet this morning, I heard a loud thud and then crying. It was a scared cry, rather than a hurt cry, so as I approached the scene, I yelled: What did you do???? But as soon as i saw the blood dripping down his nose covering his mouth and chin my tone and demeanor changed. I scooped him up, cooing him while carrying him into the bathroom. I didn’t mention the bloody nose because I didn’t want to upset him more. The culprit: his radio flyer toppled over on it’s side in the dining room. Probably happened during one of his 25mph laps around the house, but I digress. After I wiped his nose and discretely threw the tissue away, I carried him downstairs in search of his fuzzie. As he lay with his fuzzie immersed in Handy Mandy, he touched his nose which left traces of blood on his finger. He couldn’t have been more thrilled. Lovebug: Mama!!!! I have a bloody nose! Just like Papa!!

































