There we were, playing happily as a family, doing what every American family does: family wrestling. And then my son, the thirteen-month-old Hulk Hogan, headbutted Valerie — SMACK! — square on, No Holds Barred, right in the nose.
Thus and so, the Boo Boo BearTM being applied to the slightly swollen bridge of my lovely wife’s nose, above. No black eyes, and the swelling appears to have gone down, so we don’t think it’s broken, thank God, though Val swears she heard something give a squicking crunch inside her sinuses. And yet Carl shows no ill effects, no crying, not a scratch on him. Hell, he laughed. (So did I, kind of. Come on! How can you not?)
But yes, ha ha. Funny now, until you realize that if he does it to us, he’s probably gonna do it to some poor unsuspecting toddler at the daycare, and then we’re going to get that Special Call from the daycare director to come in and talk about Carl’s Little Problem and how we’re going to appease the parents of the Kid What Got His Nose Broke.
