Hard Knocks

Warning: If you have a weak constitution and can’t stand the sight of blood, do not look at the pictures in this post. I don’t think they’re very bad, but I know I’m not everybody and I do want to be sensitive to my dear readers.

We live in the country, on five acres, so naturally my kids get their fair share of bumps and bruises. I do try my best to prevent them from getting injured. I mean, I have rules that are supposed to keep them (and our possessions) safe. For example:

*do not go in the barn,
*do not go out of the gate on to the road,
*do not go over/through the fences into the neighboring fields,
*do not go in the chicken coop,
*do not climb up on the grape arbor,
*do not go in the tool shed and open the trap door and climb down into the well,
*do not go in the basement,
*do not play around the clotheslines,
*and so on.

Our house is even strategically placed (not by our doing) in such a way that it sits up at the front of the property right by the road and from the kitchen windows (which are our doing—I envisioned and demanded them and Mr. Handsome installed them) I can see out over the whole five acres.

But the knocks still happen.

The other day The Baby Nickel took a fall.

He was climbing the ladder that led to Yo-Yo’s fort when the ladder tipped over and fell. (Thankfully, he did not hit the edge of the doghouse roof—he has already been injured on that thing.) The kids say he landed head first. On a rock. Ouch.

I washed him up and tied a diaper around his head as a makeshift do-rag.

He didn’t want to move around much (he probably had a whopper of a headache) and kept slumping over in the swivel chair, trying to fall asleep.

It was the perfect opportunity to take some close-up shots of him, something I don’t normally get to do because he’s always in motion.

If you’re looking for a moral to this tale, it would be this: If you ever want to get a non-blurry photo of your highly active kid, just bonk the kid on the head. JUST KIDDING! (I can’t believe I just said that. I’m kidding, really.)

Isn’t he a perfect picture of pathetic peacefulness?

He has fully recuperated now though he still winces when I wash his hair. I haven’t seen him on the ladder since then. Maybe that hard rock knocked a little sense, or at least caution, into him.