This evening we were coming back from an eye Dr. appt. in Columbia (where I found my eyes still haven't healed completely and are ONLY 20/40. Better than legally blind though! It's only been a month...) So, I had pawned my restless toddler off with a neighbor and was talking to T on the cell as he drove back from Florida. The boys were in the back seat trying to see who could slap the other in the back of the head hard enough to make said brother's eyes pop out. I assume this was the game anyway. I fussed at them to cut it out, I was on the phone for Pete's sake!! T told me to leave them alone. When one of them got hurt, then I could just say, "well... I told you to stop. You deserved to get hurt." (Daddy wisdom, haha).
A couple minutes later I hear screaming and crying coming from the back seat and look in the mirror to see Seth holding his mouth with blood in his hand. I hang up with T and Seth stammers out, "Braeden pulled my toof!!" At which I did the truly sympathetic and motherly thing - I started laughing. Seems Seth had a hoody on, which he was pulling over his head to ward off impending blows, I guess. Braeden yanked hard on the hoody and the band caught Seth's mouth and pulled out an already-loose tooth. So, I'm driving down the highway finding loose napkins in the console. Poor Seth. If any thing can be damaged, or any freak accident happen - it will be at Braeden's hands. It's going to be a long 12 more years until adulthood.
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