It's no more. Our Mister A is a big, bad toddler now. Not to be messed with or met in dark alleys. Grrrrr.
First, the mysteriously vague 'block incident' of last week. That bruise was fading away nicely, much to my relief. Then yesterday, I watched him trip and lurch forward off the front step onto the paved walkway. He caught himself with his forehead, and a little bit with his nose as well. (Note to A: try your hands next time.) That was all bad enough, until late this afternoon (after I took the above photo), when he crashed and burned once more and scraped up his cheek at the park. His timing is not ideal, since our family photos are scheduled for this Saturday. Ah well, that's what editing is for. Something tells me there will be no more 'perfect baby face' in this house until mid-February, and even that one won't last long, what with this big bad toddler running around with hands full of blocks and trucks and the occasional spork. (I have no idea where he found a spork. I didn't even know they made sporks anymore. But man, he really thought that spork was something neat.)