Yesterday I was trying to take advantage of the boys playing upstairs so nicely. It wasn't exactly quiet, but they sounded like they were having fun and getting along. I was able to wash the dishes, pick up the living room, and then it happened. I was at the bottom of the stairs switching the laundry when I heard it. THUMP! Wail. "MO-OM! Matty got HU-URT! He jumped off the top of his bed!" He has a locomotive-shaped toddler bed, with a canopy over the "cab" part. I sighed and started heaving my 6-months-pregnant body up the stairs to investigate. When I got upstairs, Matty was holding his neck and crying. Then Canaan added, "He was holding the cord for the blinds when he jumped and I think it hit him." As best I can figure, he stood on top of his bed, held onto the cord for the blinds and jumped. I think the jump pulled the cord from his hand and it whipped back and caught him around the neck and gave him a pretty good rope burn. It's a good thing he's OK or I'd have wrung his neck! Now to figure out how to put the cord up high enough that it's out of reach, even from my climbing, flying monkey!
You can see the rope burn doesn't seem to be bothering him today. He and Canaan proudly show off their new Star Wars Clone Wars T-shirts.
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