Saturday, May 9, 2015

Bad nose and good news

The other day, M read to me from one of his library books about a man who had been struck by lightning so many times, he was called a human lightning rod.  It was as if something about him attracted the strike.

I think L's nose is like that.  I have lost count of how many times he has bashed it open, right on the bridge.

Yesterday he was picking up a glass off the sticky table (note to self: get a maid, your children are actually suffering) and pulled so hard that when it unstuck, it hit him smack dab on the nose, busting it open in what is currently the third place.

The silver lining, because there always is one, is that he didn't have a seizure (even from the accompanying splash of water) and hasn't for so many months that I'm no longer keeping track.  Actually, the other day when M cautioned: "You're going to give yourself a seizure," I said, "He doesn't have seizures anymore, right L?" And I wasn't even feeling bold.

So I have thrown down the gauntlet to the universe.  Seizures are officially being referred to in the past tense from here on out.

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