Yesterday, Mike took Ryan to the ear doctor. (Yes, the ear infection is still there. But it’s better, so I’m not going to whine about that today.)
While they waited to be called back to the Room of Doom (I’m pretty sure that’s how Ryan thinks of it), Mike sat him on the floor and let him play with some toys.
Apparently, Ryan forgot about that whole balance thing for a moment and sort of threw himself backward to the floor, slamming his head on the wooden ledge of a toy.
As one might expect, he was not pleased, and so he screamed. For a minute. And then he was over it.
“Well, we’ve always suspected he had a pretty hard head,” I said.
“Yeah, he does. I knocked on it.”
“You knocked on it?”
“Yeah, you know. Like knock-knock-knock. It was hard. I could tell by the noise it made.”
“Let me make sure I’m following you correctly. You knocked on our kid’s head after he fell and slammed it on the floor.”
“Yeah. Well, I didn’t knock it in the same spot he hit, obviously. His head is developing rather well.”
“How could you possible know how well his head is developing?”
“I TOLD you. I knocked on it.”
Husbands say (and DO!) the darnedest things:)
Hilarious!!
Now, you know – I totally get the logic behind this. Might just be my husband-ness, but I'm on board with your husband.