It is almost always the older brother's fault. Even though the boys are only 19 months apart and pretty much the same size "your sweet baby Mitchell", as he likes to refer to himself seems to take the brunt. Yesterday it was a sledding accident. My brother, Sam, (who is almost entirely responsible for the material I am coordinating to create a book series entitled The 9 Lives of Barnabas James based on the escapades he inflicted on our baby brother ) helped Breadwinner make a bucket for the lift to turn our slightly sloping pasture ground into a Olympic rivaling toboggan run.
Sweet Little's face apparently got in the way. We iced, applied Arnica to the unabraded spots, and distracted him with home videos of his older siblings.
I wasn't the least bit surprised at what I saw when I heard the boys holler from the other room today to come see what they could do. You'd think he would learn to think twice. Luckily I had the camera at the ready to get the action in sequence. A few kids ago I would have ditched the camera and made a leaping dive to save my babies. I've learned to play things out a bit more. Life of hard knocks and all that...
He seems none the worse for wear. Maybe he will learn something from this experience. We did have a chat that perhaps it is best to sled down a hill on your bottom and not face first flat on your stomach. Time will tell. We'll see if he lets Big Brother influence his choices next time. I'm pretty sure you can guess how it will turn out...
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