Apr. 18: Fashion forward

This is NOT my husband. Really. It's just a photo I found on the Internet when I went Googling "short shorts." Victor and Katie went for a bike ride this afternoon, wherein Katie was reminded of the importance of helmets when she saw Daddy take a corner too fast and go over his handlebars. He came home looking pretty beat up; though his injuries weren’t awful, he had some gnarly splinters and a bad scrape on his knee. The dirt on his clothes made him look a lot worse than he was. The infuriating thing was that he farked up his brand new glasses.

I got out the tweezers, hydrogen peroxide, and a sharp needle and played naughty nurse. And by naughty nurse, I mean someone who says, “geez, stop breathing in my face” and “you kinda stink” and “are you crying???” I have to say, it was kind of nice to operate on someone who wasn’t screaming his or her head off, that’s for sure. It makes for much less stressful splinter removal for me, the Very Experienced Splinter Remover. Isn’t that what’s important?

The jeans Victor was wearing already had a hole in the knee, and it got a lot bigger when he wrecked. This afternoon he rummaged around my desk looking for scissors. This is when we reached the scariest part of the whole day:

Jen: “Scissors? What for? Are you gonna cut off the frayed stuff?”
Vic: “No. It’s time for sexy pants.”

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