The Culprit

Isn't this a pretty glass bead? It is one of the many from our rock table. Having children produced from a geologist is fun and definitely is awesome when mere rocks and pebbles can thrill them but it has its hazards as well. Take for example this glass bead. Shiny. Blue. Pretty. Smooth. Fun. That is until it isn't put away into the rock table but is rather left on the edge of the porch at night when Mommy is trying to set up some chairs for Daddy's boy bike ride party the next morning and she slips on said glass bead and falls and falls and falls and twists her foot on the sidewalk and lands hard onto the grass and lays there paralyzed in agony for several long seconds while she tries to figure out what to do because Daddy is upstairs, far away and several fans are blowing on high speed since it is so hot so he won't be able to hear her yelling so she decides to lay there and just relax for a bit and wait for him to find her but then she thinks about worms coming out of the grass that she is laying on and touching her exposed skin--like her neck which causes her to get up in a freaked out panic only she can't walk and she can't really crawl so she starts to army/Mowgli crawl into the house and somehow makes it to the living room shaking and sweating. That's when Daddy starts to come downstairs and looks at Mommy and casually says, "What happened to you?"

Luckily not broken. An older child sadly and guiltily apologized because she left the rock there. "Was it a blue one?" she asked when I told her I slipped on a rock.

Or maybe I should just watch where I'm going.