This is the scene laid out before me:
Five year old boy sitting on Grandma's porch in his bright new winter coat and monster toque.
One boot off.
Blood gushing from head wound.
Bleeding nose.
Tears streaming down his face.
I had been in Grandma's and he was waiting for me what...2 MINUTES?! What could possibly have happened on Grandma's porch?!?! I got down at his level and began wiping blood and tears from his face. I couldn't even imagine what had happened.
Did you trip and bang your head?
Did you slip on the cement?
Seriously Rory, what happened?!
"I hurt my head."
Duh.
Rory, what were you doing before this happened?!?
It was the big shiny HEAVY icicle hanging from the coal house roof. It was good enough to lick. It was good enough to fall on him.
Only Rory.
He doesn't stay down long though. He went straight back outside and put on skis for the first time and skied all the way to the barnyard. His end of the night goal was to get on top of the very steep snow hill and ski down it. I am so proud of the endless optimism and determination when he wants to do something. Finally coaxed down off the side of the hill, I realized that tomorrow's blog posting may be entitled "The Broken Arm."
Yikes those icicles are dangerous stuff!!! Good thing it did not get his eye! Tanner has asked EVERY day and EVERY time we get in the vehicle to go somewhere if we are going Rory's and Kenny's and Steve's and Regan's!!! lol. He had lots of fun the other night.
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