Now, I don't need to tell you that there is often rowdiness after bathtime. Well, amidst the leaping and flailing and bouncing of young bodies, Charley's cheekbone crashed into The Cannonball. I think Sam's head should always be referred to as such. It was quite a blow, I hear, and although Sam didn't even notice (The Cannonball, after all...), Charley was a bit upset.
When I arrived home, Nanna and Dodo informed me that there had been 'an incident' and warned me that there may be physical proof in the morning.
Indeed, Charley took a good hit.
Tough Guy
It is possible that Charley has inherited my interesting hemo-genes and bruises with gusto. I've discovered that it's impossible to photograph bruises, but you get the idea from this shot.
The only strange thing about this is that it doesn't happen every night! Charley spent romp-time last night with his hands over his face everytime that Sam made a move. Har har har... that'll teach you! Don't mess with The Cannonball!
(Seriously... I took this picture while Chris and Phil were watching the hockey game on Sunday, and I had to set up a wee theatre in the kitchen in order to get dinner made. LOOK at that HEAD! I know I talk waaaaaay too much about Sam's melon, but really! I couldn't stop laughing looking at them sitting there.)
Post-dinner we had cake to celebrate The Cannonball's 2nd birthday. Charley kept referring to it as his own birthday. For example, I would say "Yay, Sammy! It's your birthday" and Charley would respond "You're right! It IS my birthday".
Charley's lips, pursed and ready to go
A rare family shot
Never forget... Mama wields a big knife. Show respect.
That's all from Crazyville. Chris may potentially be mentioned on Oprah today, in relation to the Roger Ebert story. Y'know... just a normal day.
p.s. Thanks to John and Marilyn for the babysitting. One little black eye is a small price to pay for a night out. Plus, Charley feel like a tough guy now.
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