I took my daughter out on a play date today. Really, this is the first time in 18 months that I've had her all to myself and been completely responsible for her out of the house for more than an hour or two.
Needless to say, I wanted it to go well. Needless for Murphy to say, things didn't go as planned.
The play date host had recently purchased a new pair of shoes. Large, white shoes. They were sitting in the middle of the living room floor. My daughter, who is not yet very coordinated, went careening through the house at full tilt, tripped over the shoes, went airborne, and smashed her face into the wall of the living room.
You can always tell the severity of a child's injury by the type of crying that commences afterward. In this case, my daughter didn't move for a full five seconds, and then commenced to wail at the top of her lungs. She still didn't move. She just lay there with her face pressed against the wall.
I ran over to her and picked her up, whereupon blood began running from her nose all over our host's new white shoes and his carpet. I was completely paralyzed with indecision for a moment. But the smartass side of me surveyed the situation and I said "Wow! She fought the wall and the wall won!"