So I was getting ready to take a shower this afternoon when I noticed a huge cut on my leg. I have no idea how I got it but it was long, and bleeding and would impress any two year old boy. Excitedly I went and found Finley who was watching cartoons and thrust my leg by his face.
"Look at this!" I said proudly.
"Oh",said Fin, barely glancing at it.
"No look Fin, isn't this a gross boo-boo?", I insisted. Surely he hadn't really seen it.
"Mmm-hmmm", he mumbled, keeping one eye glued on Tom and Jerry.
Deflated I made my way back to my room, walking with a slight limp as a last ditch effort for sympathy. I glanced back aaaaaand...nothing, glazed eyes still on the tv.
This is the child that can remember a stubbed toe from Christmas. Who insists on bambaids for his stuffed Ernie's stomach. Who winces before you even cut his fingernails for goodness sake.
Don't think I'll forget this the next time I'm buying bandaids for his fake boo-boos. Generic it is!
On another note, we had a great time at the Seabrook park this weekend, or the "Zebra" park as Fin puts it. We all left the house growling at each other b/c it takes us 12 hours to get ready to go anywhere, but by the time we had picked up a diet coke and rocked out to some tunes we arrived civil and smiling...until Fin wiped out 5 seconds later running down a wet wooden ramp.
Pat and I put the boys in the swings and threw balls at them to see how far they could kick them while swinging. Cole included. Just because you're 7 months old doesn't mean you can't learn to kick a ball...moving....in midair. We're Stephensons after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment