Why Our Holiday Cards Will Be Late This Year

OK, so the first reason why our holiday cards will not likely be arriving in a timely fashion is because I procrastinated on getting them put together. I tried hard on Saturday to get a good family photo, but the forces of a squirmy (almost) toddler, dark lighting, and the end of a long day conspired to make it not so.

No problem, I figured. We'll just try again on Sunday. However, a trip to Target before making another photo attempt got in the way of this plan. Steve put Bryson into the back of the shopping cart (which he loves, especially when the cart is being pushed nice and slowly, right daddy?). Through some freak accident that I did not witness directly (read: it happened under daddy's watch), Bry tumbled into some part of the cart that caused this:

Baby's first puncture wounds

From two aisles over, I could hear Bry's distressed wails and figured it was no big deal. He's bumped his head before and usually gets over it as soon as he gets distracted by something more interesting. Like his shoes. Or the kitty. But as his crying started to escalate I got worried and rushed over. People, I have never seen a bruise develop that quickly. And there was blood! Granted, not very much blood, but enough to smear across his forehead and make me feel very, very sad. Steve sprinted off to the food counter to get some ice, and it's just as well because I might have been tempted to punch him. Just a little. You know, with a pointy object into his forehead. See how he likes it.

True to his nature, Bry calmed down pretty quickly and started grabbing for anything within reach on the shelves. His parents, on the other hand, were a wee bit more frazzled. The official injury count (not that I'm keeping track - OK, I'm totally keeping track) is Daddy: 2, Mama: 1. And the injury that occurred on my watch didn't even involve any bruises or bumps. Just so you know who's protecting your cranium, Bry. Ahem.

So, no holiday cards until Bry ceases to look like he's been in a bar fight. Or a bear fight, as Steve likes to say.