Remember that time…

A conversation my four-year-old son does not have with his friend from preschool:

“Hey Zachy, remember that time you smashed me in the face with a bucket?”

“What’s that you say, Jakey?”

“Yeah, it was a bucket.”

“Ummm…”

“You were spinning around holding it at arm’s length, just going around and around and around.”

“A bucket?”

“For real, dude. I guess I got too close. Anyway, BAM! I take it right in the face. Nosebleed, big scrape, the whole deal. I got one black eye and I don’t breathe so well through my nose just yet. See how it’s blueish green and kinda puffy?”

“Maybe a little purple, too.”

“Exactly! Now you’re feelin’ me!”

“A bucket? Yikes.”

“Right?”

2 thoughts on “Remember that time…”

  1. You’re going to worry the grandparents. For all you worriers out there, he’s fine. It’s all healed up now. Well, 95%.

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