Story #1: ReeRee got her first shiner. A nice bruise under her eye. She was jumping on the recliner and twirled in the air, off the chair, and onto the corner of the table with her face.
I ran and grabbed her off the carpet, where she laid sobbing. I put her curly head next to mine and rocked and shushed and rocked. I didn’t want to let her go, or to see how much was bleeding.
Surprising there was no blood. Just a nasty scratch under her eye.
“What hurts? What hurts?” I asked through the screaming.
“The FLOOR! It HURTS! It HURTS!”
Yes, the floor is unforgiving that way.
Story #2: I picked up ReeRee from Grammy’s house after work. It was a nice spring day and both were outside on the deck. With her hands full of dolls, and several steep steps, Grammy shouted to us, “Don’t fall and get a black eye!”
ReeRee shouted back, “I not get a black eye, Grammy. My eyes are BLUE!”
