The time is way too close to the butt-crack of dawn, this morning. The place, our bed. Gavin stops nursing and sits up.
"Owie," he says.
Groggily, I open one eye and peer through the dim light at him and ask, "Owie what?"
"Dchin," he says, and I can see him pointing at his chin, where a scrape of unknown origin had appeared the day before.
"Why does your chin hurt?" I ask.
"Down-down," says he.
"Downstairs?"
"Un-huh. Aydd."
"Egg?" I ask, confused.
"Uh-huh," he answers with confidence. "Durn, durn."
"The stove hurt your chin?" Turn turn is what he says to indicate turning on the burners. "when Daddy cooked you egg?"
"Uh-huh."
"Uhhh... okay. Go to sleep."
Thankfully, he did.
Posted by allison at February 6, 2006 05:26 AM