We have had Cicada's family over tonight for post-Christmas fun. Gulliver was having fun climbing through the swing legs of our dining table, but it's covered with a table cloth, so suddenly he cries a bloodcurdling scream, and we go over and he must have slipped and smacked hi lip really hard on the table leg, because his mouth was full of blood. I scooped him up and took him to the bathroom where Cicada and I cleaned him up, getting blood out of his mouth so we could asses the damage. He was cut deep, but on the inside of his lip.
Poor Gullie. I felt so bad for him. I had this surge of paternal protection adreneline. It's a weird and scary feeling. Within like 7 minutes he was back to normal emotionally, like nothing ever happened.
Sometimes I think WE are the babies.
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