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I have a large egg-shaped lump on my forehead. It is probably the worst injury I've had since childhood and it was inflicted on me by a Jumbo Tinker Toy storage can and my butter-fingered 3 year old.

We were playing with Tinker Toys yesterday afternoon [a stupendous toy, btw] and Diego had just attempted to see if the storage can would fit as a hat on Baby Truen's head. "No," I said, "It won't fit. And see...it doesn't fit on my head either, or your head." I showed him and then handed the can back to him. Seconds afterward, I laid back on the floor thinking about naptime, when BAM! it hit me: right on the forehead. It was the hard metal corner of the can no less, probably dropped from 1-2 feet above my head. It definitely fell [vs. thrown], though whether it slipped out of his hand or was carelessly dropped is unknown to me.

I rolled, screaming - not even really knowing what hit me. I could hear the baby screaming in terror with me (poor thing) so I sat up and picked him up, tears streaming out of my eyes from the pain, sobbing. I felt me forehead, and sure enough - a lump not all that difference from the top of a Silly Putty egg was hot and bulging right below my hairline.

Poor Diego was stricken when he saw me crying; his little face scrunched up into a wailing mess and then I was comforting two little guys in my lap. I took a couple of pictures for photographic evidence, then we snuggled in for a nap. No time for icing! It was 3:15 and I wanted these children asleep. The first thing Diego asked me when he woke up from his nap was, "Is your owie okay?" He kept on reassuring me that it would be "awight" and that it was healing. [Healing is a concept we've been discussing recently.]

Another interesting aftershock from the Tinker Toy Debacle has been contemplating my tears. It is interesting to think about an adult crying over physical pain. Emotional pain is a given for me - but I had forgotten what it was like to get hurt and cry over it. And my goodness did it hurt.