Not So Good

Here's what happened yesterday. Nice face plant, kid.

The best part of the story was how it all went down: baby is eating dog food. Three-year-old is pantless outside, screeching, "WIPE MY BUTT!" Almost eight-year-old is wailing at the top of his lungs, "WHY, WHY, WHY?!?!?!?!" over a dropped silly band that he can't find. Mom is valiantly resisting her impulse to curse at the big boy for flipping out over such a useless little shred of polymer, trying to be heard over the three-year-old, hands dirty now, when baby spins out and tumbles off the stoop, face first so he grinds it into the sidewalk really nicely. Thankfully his teeth are fine, and a bonus was that he spat the dog food out in the body roll rather than choking on it. Good grief.

Nonetheless, I had this half-composed post on love I was all ready to work on last night, but then the disasters of bedtime ensnared me and I surrendered. Since I've promised myself daily posts for a while to oil the writing joints, I'm going to attempt to post twice today. We'll see later if I follow through...