the goose egg

my mom likes to tell the story of when i started to walk. she said she lost 20 pounds that month.

i crawled at 5 months and ran at 8 months. yes, i said 8.

that was in the days of hard leather soled baby shoes. we had a terrazzo floor in our house. a pre-toddler running on a terrazzo floor in hard leather soled baby shoes are not a good mix.

mom says that every time she would schedule photos for me i'd fall down and end up with a big goose egg on my forehead. she must have rescheduled all of those appointments because i've never seen proof.

when i was 5 my teacher suggested that i might be "hyperactive" and my parents should take me to the doctor. thank goodness for good old Dr. Roach. he told her i was too coordinated to be hyperactive. not to worry, i was just a busy child.

i've always been coordinated. of course, i'd wake with party bruises of unknown origin, but never anything substantial.

but this saturday i hit my head and i now have a big goose egg.

i was putting my sweet sleepy sugar lump in the van after a late dinner. i was parked next to a tree. so i used the remote to open the sliding door.

as i bent down to walk under the branches to get to the open door the sliding door slammed into my face. i saw stars, my teeth rattled in my head and i was a bit dizzy for a few moments.

my forehead took the brunt of the hit. i've got a big old lump just above my eyebrow. it's a pretty shade of purple right now. i'm looking forward to the colors to come.

the worst part? i didn't even have a drink with dinner.