Zoey was very stoic about the whole matter, crying only when she realized it was the world's ugliest coffee table that got her and it never even offered up an apology (either for being so damn ugly or for knocking her noggin). After the incident we went to Target to show off her wound and buy grapefruit scented dish soap. By that time the goose egg had swollen even more and an angry red welt had risen in the middle. Zoey kept standing up in the shopping cart as we were in line at the check out so I had to yell at her reprimand her because the little illustration on the cart says that it's dangerous, that there is the distinct possibility your child's head might spontaneously fall off if she stands up in the cart. So I sternly told Zoey no, and then I caught the cashier flashing a look to the woman behind me and I realized then that maybe they thought I had hit Zoey. Or pushed her into the world's ugliest coffee table. Or farted, I'm really not sure. But I do know I didn't do any of those things. Not even once.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
To the Moon
It's official: we've been inaugurated into the International Society of Goose Egged Toddlers, IS-GETS for short.
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