.

My kids rarely get hurt.

And having two {very active} boys . . .

I feel pretty lucky.

In fact.

I can only think of one time that seemed even the tiny bit serious.

Which is great.
Me no likey blood.
Seriously.

Then there was today.

Babi.
Bleeding.
And crying.

A lot.

Crap.

I pick his neked self up and rush him to the bathroom.

We now can add 'blood' to the list of disgusting things on our carpet.
Sweet.

Between the slobberings I tried to get him to tell me what happened.

He had no clue.

Standing there one minute.

The next--gushing.

Weird, I know.

I don't do well with large amounts of blood.

I began to breath heavy.

Stay calm.

Why won't this stupid thing quit bleeding???

Thanks again, Shay, for my first aid training.

Everything worked out A-OK.
Whew.

And yes.
I found the culprit.

A tiny, minuscule, itty-bitty piece of glass.
Chipped away from a perfume bottle.
Out to get his revenge.

Eat trash you shard scum.