William's black eye is slowly fading, you'll all be glad to know. It looked worse on Tuesday and even a little bit worse than that yesterday. But today, it looks better. It's not the first thing you'd probably notice about him anymore. Yep. There goes my son, with his band-aids from his skin infections and his black eye. Aren't I the poster child for Mom of the Year?
I felt compelled to explain at Gymboree class yesterday why my child had a black eye, so no one would whisper behind my back or anything. Or call child protective services. But like he's the first kid to ever have a black eye. Here's how I see it: he's a toddler. Toddlers fall down. They trip over their feet. They trip over their shoes. They trip over each other (which is what happened with William). Plus, half of William's genes are mine, which means he's 50 percent klutz, genetically speaking. They don't call my dad Tanglefoot for nothing!
Plus, William wasn't even the only black-eyed child in his four-child Kindermusik class on Tuesday. A girl named Kyla had a real beauty of a shiner that even included a cut down the side of her face. Her parents said she tumbled down the stairs at school. I remember doing the exact same thing at about her age, except that I fell down the steps at church. I'm sure my parents would love to relive that little childhood memory. Ah, good times.