After waking to play in his crib at 4:00 a.m. this morning, Nik finally convinced me to take him downstairs at 5:00. The very first thing he did was find his giant yellow ball and start bouncing on it. Yes, on it. Then, he insisted that I play with him; he even used his “nice” words (signs)!
Sucker that I am Having not had any coffee and thus not aware of my peril, I acquiesced. Little did I realize I was to replace the yellow ball! Truth be told, I adore having my son launch himself into my arms with a smile of delight and a squeal of glee. I remember all too vividly the months, nay –years, that it took for him to reach that point; I’m not about to pass up an opportunity now.
After bouncing on mama and on the ball wore thin, Nik decided it was time to
dismiss me play by himself. Racing around the family room and laughing maniacally himself silly, Nik was having a grand time. I was finally having my first cup of coffee. Whew. (Some days there’s just not enough coffee to keep up with that boy!)
As I was pouring my much anticipated second cup, I heard a loud crash and a wail. I turned in time to see Nik fall face first into the edge of the sleeper sofa –the hard edge. I dashed into the room and scooped him up. “Shhh, you’re okay, sweetie. You’re okay. Can you show Mommy your boo-boo? Can Mommy kiss your owie?”
Fully anticipating that he would press the rapidly forming red welt on his forehead against my lips, I prepared myself for the fresh onslaught of tears. They never came. With a snuffle and a slightly shaky intake of breath, Nik raised his face to mine. Then raised…
…his index finger!
Yeah, big ol’ knot on his forehead and he’s oblivious to it.