Prize Fighter

Not only am I clumsy - dropping things, running into things, tripping over my own feet - I bruise easily. When a bruise appears, I usually have no recollection of what caused it, since it didn't hurt at the time. My husband has given up asking me where bruises came from, since I almost never have an answer. (Side Note: this is why I don't wear shorts. Black and blue shins are just not fashionable.)
But some injuries are memorable, especially when the mishaps seem to come non-stop. In a matter of a few days, I had bruises on my forehead, my arm, and my chin.
Wednesday - Forehead injury: My two-year-old and I were settling in for a nap. I laid next to him to read a book - a required naptime calming procedure with my rambunctious boy. But before I had a chance to open the cover, he began rolling around. He rolled to the right, then when he rolled back to the left, conk! right into my temple. I know his head hurt too, but I was the one to yelp first. Guess which of us ended up with the bruise...
Thursday - Arm injury: I had to take my poor flu-symptom-suffering 11-year-old daughter to the doctor. Not feeling well myself, I decided the easiest way to keep the still-quite-healthy two-year-old under control was to keep him in his stroller. For some reason, the stroller had been put into the trunk upside-down, making it difficult to take out, and with it some random junk from the trunk (heh, heh) fell to the ground. By this time, my daughter had gotten out of the car and was watching me struggle. She wasn't watching me closely enough, though. Once the stroller was out, she tried to close the trunk - with my left arm still inside it, trying to put back that random junk that had fallen out.

"AAH!" the parking lot echoed, "What are you doing?! NEVER close this trunk unless I say it's okay!" I realize I was yelling at a sick child, but at that point, I'm not sure which of us was more miserable. She certainly wasn't the one with a rapidly-developing bruise on her forearm.

Friday - Chin injury: There I was, sitting on the couch, minding my own business, when my two-year-old (yep, him again) came over to play with me. I reached out to hug him, resting my chin on his cute, curly little head, when he jumped. His cute, curly little head hit the bottom of my chin, which hurt me, but not him. A little while later, a little purple circle appeared on my chin. Sigh. Being so little, you wouldn't call him a bruiser by looking at him, but he definitely is. And looking at me, you might suspect I am a professional prize fighter, but I definitely am not.