When I picked up the Little Miss from her daycare today, she had a bloody nose. Not a big deal, just a little bloody nose. She has a wonderful daycare and the caretakers told me what had happened that led to the bloody nose. Perfectly normal stuff.
I brought her home. Kelly and the Little Man were already home. The Little Miss had brought a rose for Kelly for Mother’s Day.
“Happy mommy’s day,” the Little Miss said, running into the house to give the rose to Kelly.
“Oh, thank you!” Kelly said. There was a pause. “What happened to–”
“She got a bloody nose at school,” I said.
The Little Man perked up. At nearly four years old, he is fascinated by blood.
I explained what happened. “When so-and-so’s dad came to pick him up, all of the kids suddenly wanted to play with the same toy, or something. I think they said it was a dinosaur. Anyway, in the commotion, whosits threw the dinosaur and it bobbed the Little Miss squarely in the nose.”
“Aww, my poor little girl!” Kelly said. The Little Miss did not seem bothered by this in the least.
The Little Man seemed to consider the story carefully and then asked what he deemed to be the most significant question.
“What kind of dinosaur was it?”
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