It didn't start out a very good day for Mr. Pie. After one of what well-meaning people (myself included,) point out could be the first of many injuries in life, this morning, (how is this really helpful, I now wonder?) and the doctor's visit that followed, not to mention the bronchitis-approaching cold His Highness is sporting, it was far from his best morning. (It was the incident with a cup of hot tea that his parents will most recall with horror.)
He's going to be fine.
I'll spare you the descriptions of the worst part, which is on his arm (his face has hardly any red remaining; his arm wasn't so lucky,) and tell you that they were assured he shouldn't have any scarring at all. He handled the changing of tonight's bandage as bravely as a grown man; possibly better than some.
I came over as much for moral support for sis as anything else; she, too, has been sick and this morning's event was the final straw. When your parents live in another state, it's good to have a sis in town for such days.
The evening, though? I gotta' tell you, it's been so good. Mostly because we're happy to find diversions to keep Mr. Pie's mind off his troubles: singing strange, made-up songs while tapping out the bass line on his belly as I march him around the room nearly crying from his giggles; crawl-chasing him across the floor - more giggles guaranteed; nibbling on his excruciatingly ticklish feet while he howls with laughter; singing Itsy, Bitsy Spider until we can't stand it anymore...
Never in my life have I possessed the patience and energy I reserve for this kid. It's something that gets doled out the day they first call you an "auntie," and it never seems to go away.
Although I'm not saying he didn't wipe me out. I have a feeling the whole house is gonna' sleep soundly tonight...
Disclaimer: Photo taken with camera phone.