Stories, Sundays and Scraped Knees
A story about a story that makes no sense and how accidents happen.
She skinned her knee while running to the garage to get her scooter. I blame her crocs:
They are worn out because she just drags her toe to stop her scooter and after a summer of scooting, there’s not much left of these.
Today the crocs got retired.
Of course there were tears and fear of the Neosporin spray. And we needed a band-aid and it was a pretty good scrape - about the size of a quarter - so she has a huge bandage on her knee from the fall.
There was a bit of concern about having a bath with the fresh injury but I told her that warm water would make it feel better and just to be sure I gave her a shot of Tylenol to keep the ouchies at bay.
Our goal this weekend was to survive. Thursday PM, BW came down with a killer cold and didn’t get out of bed for 3 days so I was in charge and we just laid low. Today after too much video watching we decided that we should go to the park and she’s still afraid of the fireman pole and the monkey bars so I have to help.
The park is on the edge of a creek so we found some bull rushes and played some game with them that made me the King and her the Queen. I’m not sure what the game was exactly, because she’s not the best choreographer and just gets frustrated when I am not doing exactly what’s in her head.
Earlier this morning I was at the computer and she told me she wanted to write a book on a computer too. So, I grabbed an old ancient mac that takes like 20 minutes to start up and fired up google docs and let her go to town:
And as a tidy husband exclusive I am the first to publish this soon to be best-seller:
hfjhfhttjhkkkkkggkou8yuy,tg9yuvkcotvhjiykh;iiuoyiykhuuuioyytrrtttuygjkfkkkggmgjjh098765432yryrydejgqujmnpmmgrh0hurfh8rhfkjkkqwweeccxzbbnjuhdyduujdueuyeyfteygyghdjdfvhydyddhd6dyfjyegfei6irg6i4rt56rtddffhfgjghfyruytufigjkfjrjfghgjinuvmbnbvbccdyheiumhrymtfuymhim8juthghbgn,vmvijdkjfirifjjukrfituygdhjfmkgggggggggjhhjmnbvccxxmm,,nm,nyyyyttqwertyiop[asdfghjkl;’zxcvbnm,./vvmo
Momkijthhnmbitogtihnyijngipbuytubynhbnthiigut
Daduhrtijrht5u8ommmmmmmthyhuyghrfiryguhfnfnvvbbvhhhgcvbvnnvcbnvnbcnncbvncbvnbnvbnvbcnbcnbcnbbcbcnbvnncnbbcbv1234567891011121314151617181920egyhfuehtnfgtjfhftjhdjgrrhrfhbffdfugufuhyufhjghfgjehrjthrtgthty57yfrtk89rjtrjjtfjtgjgjgjhrtf5ftyhgrrhfjgr\][puyrew qwerui5t6ryfdhtrfjythjktjkf
teddyjcnnmcjirnnnnnnohugfknbbbhgddxsssdfhjjkhfkiomi,h8th6myr74t74t58ymt49ytryg59ypmpmy9yyjjgjfgjhthjggjjjjhdfdddfddre4weffftdr
She calls this writing The Book of Nonsense which coincidentally explains what I write about here. :)
If you look hard you will see the words MOM and DAD tucked in there somewhere.
And with that we won the battle against the common cold, boredom, cooler temperatures and skinned knees complete with tears this weekend. Oh, and laundry. There’s always laundry.
Also, I kept the dog alive.
Simply put, I’m done with this nonsense and am very happy that BW is feeling better and school starts again in the morning.
The knee? That’s a rite of passage for six year old. She’ll be fine.
Until Next Time,
TH and Co.