I left a comment on another blog yesterday regarding the reaction of LT and I to the kidlet's many slips, falls, injuries and insults. I should have known that god was watching and would find a way to let me know that was a bad idea.
LT, kidlet and I were home together for approximately 35 seconds yesterday when kidlet ran into the next room to get a ball so we could all go outside to play. Seconds after she rounded the corner out of our sight, we heard the most tremendous crash/splat. Then that awful moment of silence. Then the screaming. In my usual state of nonchalance, I barely glanced up from the mail I was sorting, and was about to say something like "Did kidlet go boom again?" when LT (who was closer to the kidlet) said "Oh shit, Mama, lots of blood".
We practically knocked each other over running the 5 feet to where kidlet was laying on her side on the floor with a sizeable puddle of blood collecting on the hardwood. She was screaming her loudest "ohmygodI'mdyingmommypleaseHELP!" scream, so we knew she was basically okay. I scooped her up, ruining a new t-shirt in the process, and sat her atop the kitchen counter so I could assess the carnage. Both nostrils bleeding, blood in her mouth. It must have been a magnificent face plant. I'm sorry I missed it.
Fast forward 10 minutes. Kidlet is holding an ice pack to her nose with one hand and managing a sippy cup with the other. The phone rang. It was our friend Ellie Mae. Kidlet demanded to speak to her right this instant, so LT gave her the phone. Kidlet put the phone to her ear and announced "Hi Ellie! I boom!", handed the phone back to LT, and got busy with the sippy cup.
I love this kid.