Boy Oh Boyers

It happened Thursday. We were playing on the floor with Rowan's toy box, the same one he's so fond of tipping over. (It was actually a Christmas gift from Aunt Julie for Mommy back before Rowan was born, but it's been repurposed with great success.) Anyway, Rowan was standing next to the edge of it, holding my fingers for support. He let go with one hand and reached in to pick up a toy, not an uncommon thing for him to do. But this time he swung forward, let go of my other finger, and plunged headfirst into the toy box. It's like something you'd see in a movie -- his little feet were kicking, but from the waist down he was inside the box! Needless to say it scared us both, and Rowan started crying immediately. I knew that on the way down his head had grazed the far side of the box. As soon as I picked him up, I saw it could be a nasty bruise. Besides bleeding, it was already turning purple. I went straight for the ice pack and spent the next 15 minutes icing Rowan's forehead and entertaining him to keep him from crying about the unpleasant coldness. Then, we applied liberal Neosporin several times during the day. The aggressive treatment seemed to work, because as you can see in this picture, we were left with little more than a scratch to show for the traumatic experience. And yes, I know this is only a harbinger of little boy boo-boos to come.