Saturday evening, after being unanimously uncooperative for family photos, our kids quickly turned from being limp noodles into being fantastic weapons of mass entropy. While Mr Renn and I were straightening the house and preparing for our first date with a neighborhood babysitter in years (we've only had two in ... ever) Our Captain was hard at work concocting this:
A feat in metallic blue sharpie, it was all over the gentleman's hair, pajamas, neck, ears, face, and teeth. Go figure. But the bright side was that there was very minimal damage done to the carpet.
We were still finding blue streaks and speckles in the gentleman's hair when we bathed him tonight.
And in case that wasn't enough, which it clearly wasn't, a squabble between Sir O and the Captain today resulted in this:
After biting clean through his lower lip, our Captain got his first stitches, courtesy of his dad. And I got a lot of bloody laundry to wade through, this injury was a gusher.
Needless to say it was a HUGE blessing that Mr Renn happened to get today off. He's been working every day lately and that he chanced to be home when this happened was quite the tender mercy. I don't handle watching my children bleed or get alarming injuries very well. I turn into even more of a spaz than I already am. It's not the technicalities and gore of the injury, it's watching the panic in their eyes. Freaks me out.
And now, all the boys are asleep and I need to gear up and brace myself for their next test of my endurance. Ready, go.
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