But this one takes the cake.
A couple Sundays back as we were getting ready for Disney on Ice, we had a little incident. Usually I'm pretty careful when it comes to my styling tools, their cords and not letting little mister get near them. He knows "hot" pretty well and stays away from things deemed "hot" for the most part. But that day, I accidentally left the cord of the curling iron hanging over the edge of the bathroom counter (at least that's what I'm assuming) and we were in my room picking out clothes, when I ducked into the closet...and he evidently made his way to the bathroom where he pulled it down. Then tried to pick it up by the barrel. And this happened...
I cringe every time I see it.
He cried. I cried. He stopped crying. I continued crying. I felt like the world's worst mama.
Fortunately, he was so much stronger than I would have ever been and didn't really fuss about it. Except to play it in his favor. When he is feeling pitiful, he holds his hand up in our face and says "ow" and then shakes his finger and says "no, no, no!" into the direction of the bathroom.
Aargh, if it's going to be this tough every time he gets hurt, I may just look into getting him that bubble.
