I really thought I had outgrown the whole skinned knees thing a couple years ago. I thought once you reached 21 it was impossible to skin your knees. I thought I would be tended to Baba's skinned knees, not mine.
I was so wrong.
Despite the fact that my entire weight and the boy's weight (we're talking about 35 of his pounds plus about 145ish of my poundage here) landed on my poor, defenseless shin, I did not swear. Granted there were other people's children around and it isn't my place to teach them some choice words. I am still impressed with my self control.
I was swearing on the inside.
My first thought (next to not throwing up from the pain) was how am I going to run through this. I must have a disease or something. Here I am completely exhausted and injured and I'm thinking about going for a run. But seriously, does anyone else think it looks like I have two knees on the same leg?
After we got back from the park, I cleaned my wound out (there was a lot of swearing on the inside involved in that) and then propped my leg up in a vain attempt to reduce swelling. Baba thought he had an owie too, so he sat next to me on the chair with his little leg propped up, moaning in agony. Monkey see, monkey do.