oops

uh, yeah, that was me
do I have to take credit?
why not blame the dog

When someone asks me why the wee-er one has a (small!) scratch on her forehead, why do I immediately tell the truth? Why can’t I blame the dog, blame the sidewalk, ignore the question, or run away? Why must I admit that I accidentally, accidentally nicked her with the prong-y, stabby end of a hammer?

"You hit your BABY with a HAMMER?" gasps the someone.

"No! No! No! I fell off the chair I was standing on, and as I was staggering to my feet to run catch the phone, the wee-er one was coming out of the bathroom and I just barely grazed her. With the stabby part. Of the hammer."

"You were… [disgusted pause] RUNNING with a HAMMER? [continued disgusted pausing] While your BABY was UNSUPERVISED in a BATHROOM?"

"Who me? I was talking about the dog. The hammering dog. And the neighbor’s baby." [sounds of running – without a hammer this time]

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