Marks
I have a new way to tell the boys apart. No longer do I have to rely on flimsy criteria like weight or personality to tell who’s who. Now I can simply look at their faces, and distinguish them by their alarming facial injuries.
Ian currently has a nasty bruise under his right eye. It’s a slender inch-long mark in the same shade of purple used in sippy cups. It looks like a blunt object smacked him in the cheekbone. I believe that blunt object is a swing.
One of the joys of our new house is I can leave the back door open, and let the kids run in and out as they please, along with the dog, our one brave cat, and a host of insects. Meanwhile, I stay inside working on household chores and checking on them whenever I hear someone scream, or whenever I realize that it’s been too long since I heard someone scream.
I couldn’t let the kids out back willy-nilly at our old home because we had a shared backyard. The lack of fencing left too much of our neighbors’ property, such as innocent plants, vulnerable to my marauders. Plus I couldn’t let them run outside unsupervised because then our neighbors would know that I’m the kind of parent who would let his very young children run outside unsupervised. Now that we own the backyard, I have no such qualms. I won’t be able to leave the door wide open when the temperatures plunge into the range of mechanical heating and cooling, but I doubt the kids will be as excited about running outside when the temperatures hit the instant sweat/shiver stage, either.
A couple days ago, I rounded the corner to check on the kids as I hadn’t heard them complain in several minutes, which usually means they’re were having too much fun. The boys were standing at the swing set, hovering around a swing. They were standing on opposite sides, each one probably trying to figure out how he could climb onto it and con his brother into swinging it. Tory grabbed the seat, pulled it back, and let go in hopes something good would happen. The seat smacked Ian in the face on its way back up the other side. I’ve no idea if Tory considered that good.
That made Ian scream, breaking the fun streak. I walked out to comfort him, and noticed the welt forming under his eye. By the next day, it had formed into the bright, distinctive mark I and everyone around us has noticed ever since.
Tory’s distinguishing mark is a set of horizontal scratches on the bridge of his nose. I believe he also took a swing to the face, but that was just softening things up for the big blow.
Yesterday, I looked outside to see what could be so much fun it would keep the kids from complaining. Tory was on top of a patio chair, holding the back with his hands, and marching his feet. He had a giant grin on his face as he danced back and forth, though that quickly changed when he knocked the chair over and fell face-first on the stone patio below.
That made Tory scream. I walked out to the comfort him, and noticed the scratches on his nose. Those marks haven’t improved since then, possibly because Ian is poking at them. Earlier today he scratched his brother’s nose when Tory tried taking his milk, drawing blood in the process. I’ve no idea if Ian considered that good, either.
Ian currently has a nasty bruise under his right eye. It’s a slender inch-long mark in the same shade of purple used in sippy cups. It looks like a blunt object smacked him in the cheekbone. I believe that blunt object is a swing.
One of the joys of our new house is I can leave the back door open, and let the kids run in and out as they please, along with the dog, our one brave cat, and a host of insects. Meanwhile, I stay inside working on household chores and checking on them whenever I hear someone scream, or whenever I realize that it’s been too long since I heard someone scream.
I couldn’t let the kids out back willy-nilly at our old home because we had a shared backyard. The lack of fencing left too much of our neighbors’ property, such as innocent plants, vulnerable to my marauders. Plus I couldn’t let them run outside unsupervised because then our neighbors would know that I’m the kind of parent who would let his very young children run outside unsupervised. Now that we own the backyard, I have no such qualms. I won’t be able to leave the door wide open when the temperatures plunge into the range of mechanical heating and cooling, but I doubt the kids will be as excited about running outside when the temperatures hit the instant sweat/shiver stage, either.
A couple days ago, I rounded the corner to check on the kids as I hadn’t heard them complain in several minutes, which usually means they’re were having too much fun. The boys were standing at the swing set, hovering around a swing. They were standing on opposite sides, each one probably trying to figure out how he could climb onto it and con his brother into swinging it. Tory grabbed the seat, pulled it back, and let go in hopes something good would happen. The seat smacked Ian in the face on its way back up the other side. I’ve no idea if Tory considered that good.
That made Ian scream, breaking the fun streak. I walked out to comfort him, and noticed the welt forming under his eye. By the next day, it had formed into the bright, distinctive mark I and everyone around us has noticed ever since.
Tory’s distinguishing mark is a set of horizontal scratches on the bridge of his nose. I believe he also took a swing to the face, but that was just softening things up for the big blow.
Yesterday, I looked outside to see what could be so much fun it would keep the kids from complaining. Tory was on top of a patio chair, holding the back with his hands, and marching his feet. He had a giant grin on his face as he danced back and forth, though that quickly changed when he knocked the chair over and fell face-first on the stone patio below.
That made Tory scream. I walked out to the comfort him, and noticed the scratches on his nose. Those marks haven’t improved since then, possibly because Ian is poking at them. Earlier today he scratched his brother’s nose when Tory tried taking his milk, drawing blood in the process. I’ve no idea if Ian considered that good, either.
posted by Matt at
12:00 AM
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