Score for Little Man: down, but not out

After taking him for a haircut yesterday evening, my Dad and Will met Mom and I at Ruby Tuesday’s for burgers. While we were walking out, Will, following a bit too close and going a bit too fast, tripped over my Dad’s heel. Splat! — he landed in a spread eagle sprawl on the pavement outside the restaurant door.

Tears followed. I scooped him up for an inspection. The vertict: a new addition to his hundredth scrapped knee; this time there was blood. Little man finally hit the skids hard enough to cause a decent boo-boo.

I put him in his car seat so I could inspect it better. “I gotta boo-boo, Mommy!” Will cried, followed by, “Make feel better, Mommy,” asking with his lower lip out as far as it would go. I explained what I was doing (getting a napkin wet with water and dabbing his knee lightly) and said that this would take away some of the sting. His tears settled into some light heaves and he agreed, “feels better.”

In an attempt to give him some options (one of our new household child development initiatives) Granna asked him: “Will, who do you want to drive the truck home? Granna or PapPap?”

Without missing a beat, Will took a little sobby breath and said, “Will. Will drive.”