Last week I woke up to screaming. This is not an unusual occurrence in this house. Apparently, JJ was done with a book and didn't feel like getting up to put it back on the book shelf. So he threw it. At Jeremy's face. Jeremy ended up with a three inch scratch down the side of his eye. He had good reflexes though, he closed his eye, so no corneal damage.
Later, JJ comes running in the back door hollering. "Jeremy threw mud on me!" Well, you threw a book at him earlier. Yadda yadda. More whining from the five year old. "Get ready to go, we're going to the barn." With that, JJ turns around and lets out his biggest whine.
"I can't go out looking like this!"
It's hysterical because this is the kid who's generally covered in dirt, mud, hair a mess, face with evidence of whatever he was eating last...and now because of a little mud he's throwing a hissy fit about how he can't go out looking like that.
Uncle Glen bought the boys a super frisbee last Friday. JJ is still getting the hang of how to throw it. You have to watch out. Anywhere within a 25 foot radius is NOT safe. There I was 20 feet away and he calls out, "Watch this, Donna!"
I turn just in time to see a HUGE yellow peace sign whizzing straight for my face. I duck! It flies past. "Can you please try NOT to scalp me next time? I really would prefer NOT to be decapitated."
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