You urt my ed!
Earlier today as I was reaching down to pick up Levi's shoes in the mudroom he, unbeknown to me, wedge himself between my leg and the wall. When I straightened back up I squeezed his head between me and the wall like it was a in a vice.
Ow! You urt my ed, Mom, you urt my ed!
Sorry, sweetie let me kiss your head.
Don urt my ed gain, kay?
Okay, I'm sorry, I won't urt your ed again.
Later, today, while loading the van with crapola from Walfart I reached to get Levi out of the cart. Instead of letting me pick him up, he tried to jump into my arms, but ended up ramming his hard head right under my chin. Of course I had my mouth open, because it usually is, and the force of his head made me bite my lip and take a chunk out of my cheek. I was distracted for a millisecond by the haze of blue and purple glitter that I was seeing. Then I reach up held my mouth and closed my eyes.
Oh, gah. Ow!
Sorry, sorry, Mom, sorry, sorry, I sorry.
I know, jussss, jusss, oh, ow, don jumph gain, kay? Don jumph!
Kay, kay, I not jump. Sorry, sorry I urt yur ead.
So, picking him up I walked to his side of the van and wouldn't you know I whacked his head on the door!
Ow! You urt my ed!
Oh, gah! Sorry Levi.
Das okay, I'm okay. It dodn't urt. It's okay. See? I rub it, it's okay.
I swear I did not ram his head on purpose, really. But, I am keeping my distance from him for the rest of the night, just in case he feels like head butting me to even the score.
7 comments:
My head hurts from reading about all the headbashing going on over there in Kansas...
This made me laugh. Joseph has jumped up and hit my chin so many times that I have learned to hold my head back. It hurts!
Anne H.
Girls, my jaw, neck and shoulder are still tender.
Annie, I think I'll wise up from now on.
I couldn't help but laugh. Sorry, but all in one day. Hope today goes better.
When Molly was 3 we took the kids to NYC at Thanksgiving. Since my kids have grown up in the country they are used to looking down when they walk. You know, since you never know what you might walk into, manure, snake, etc. So poor Molly really had some trouble handling walking in the subway. I would hold her hand, of course, and she would just look down and let me drag her to yet another fun and educational place. ANd Whack her head on the metal beams/pillars. Over and over. She had bruises and pump knots all over her head. My husband kept blaming me, but that was silly. I grew up there, I knew how to walk in a subway station!
My inclination to sympathy for you both was overcome by the urge to laugh! Very cute...in a sadistic sort of way.
Oh, the things we do to our kids. And the things they do to us. Why are we so rough with each other?
The one I hate the most is when they're babies and I accidentally pinch their skin when I snap the onsie.
Maybe you two ought to take it easy for a while...and strap pillows to your heads!
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