Note to Self: Buy More Band-aids

Mark's favorite pose:  Uncle Rico

Yesterday Mark was riding his friend Gavin's scooter (inadvisable) with shorts on (inadvisable).  He crashed and came home with spectacularly scraped knees.

While I was cleaning him up, I told him he was being very brave.  He said, "I ran all the way home and didn't even cry until I saw Braeden."  (Braeden = safe harbor)

After he was bandaged up and amply kissed and hugged, I sent him on his way.

Later I heard a panic stricken voice calling, "Mom!"  It was the same voice Mark used when he was stuck behind his bed on two different occasions this last week.  The solid oak captain style beds our boys use weigh more or less 123 tons.

(I could write an entire blog post about my feelings concerning those beds but it wouldn't make them any less bulky and behemoth.)

If I have all three of my strapping kids on my side, we can inch the beds along but it took Adam both times to free Mark.  (Incidentally, Adam could have made it look harder while he was doing it...to help our self esteem.)

It turned out Mark was not trapped.  He limped into my room, dragging one leg, the leg with the band-aid barely hanging on.

"My band-aid's coming off."

I shepherded him into the bathroom for more first aid, and questions.

"What happened?"I asked.

To which he answered, "Look, it's bleeding again!"

"Did you pull off your band-aid?"

"No, but I was jumping off my bed..."

(inadvisable)