Bonk

This afternoon I bonked Lyla's head on the kitchen table. She's fine, but what a moronic moment it was. We had some toys on the table, so I sat her on it so she'd be distracted enough to allow me to put pants on her. (I had a hand on her--I'm not a total idiot.) She went for a toy, so I helped her transition to her stomach, at which point I decided it was pants time. One thing led to another, I thought she was supporting herself with her hands when clearly she wasn't, and bonk went her forehead on the table.

She was not pleased. I carried her around the house, consoling her while simultaneously looking for any kind of mark on her forehead that might lead to my arrest. Finding none, and with a relatively calm child now, I returned to the kitchen and let her watch me slam my head on the table with at least twice as much force. It made a satisfying thump but did not hurt, so I felt better.

When Julie got home, I again smacked my head on the table to demonstrate what had happened. She did not freak out, which was nice.

And now Lyla's forgotten that it ever happened. It sucked, though. This was just the second time I've been responsible for causing her physical pain, the first being when I clumsily removed her leg bandages the day after she got shots at her two-month doctor visit. This feels worse, but I guess accidents happen.

(Now my mom will call me and say, "Don't worry, Dan. You got dropped on your head all the time when you were little. Explains a lot!")