Silas screamed in pain. Mike and I wondered what happened this time.
"Sydney!" we yelled in unison, accusing him of SOMETHING. "What happened to your brother?" (The two of them are best friends and worst enemies; they both attempt to get under the other's skin.)
"I don't know. Really... I don't. I think he kicked himself or something."
"How do you kick YOURSELF?" we wondered.
Moments later, I walked into the room to see Mike's cheek smeared with blood, his shirt stained with blood and Silas with a colorful sticky mass of bloody hair.
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" I chanted.
"See," Mike whispered into his ear "I told you Mommy was going to freak out as soon as she saw you!"
After a few minutes, we convinced Silas to shower so that we could SEE what we were contending with. Turns out, he has a small cut on his head. Our best guess says that the source of the cut was a Christmas power supply box that Silas had attempted to fling at his brother, but whacked himself in the head instead. OUCH!
Silas freaked out in the shower when he saw the bloody water running by his feet. Eventually, we got him cleaned up and ready to go for our picnic and SAY GOODBYE TO SYDNEY PARTY with the classmates at school.
Our neighbors, parents of two small children, were nice enough to give us a dose of children's ibuprofen for Silas and his pending headache.
Hoping he learned his lesson. Many more bumps to come... Mike always reminds me: BOYS GET BUMPS!
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