Walking wounded

Monday, monday. It's been a weekend of blood, pus and kissing ouchies. My two kids were walking accidents, tripping, falling, scraping, every step of the way.

It started on Friday, when the girls seemed to spend their whole day being scraped off the footpath. Their legs were a zig-zag of cuts and scrapes. Then there was a hair pulling incident that ended with Lil-lil having a rather large scratch across her face. Friday afternoon involved stripping off clothes and rolling in a mud puddle (as you do). Despite an intense scrubbing in the bath, we still ended up at the doctors on Saturday morning to have an infected toe tended to. The nurse scraped half of the park out of Goosey's toe and we headed home with a prescription under our arm.

Sunday morning, Lil-lil went for a fly over the concrete and ended up with a badly scraped knee, elbow, hip and tummy. After a lot of tears and Princess band-aids (Thank you Mrs Woog) the warrior was  back and ready to go again.

We spent the afternoon lazing and eating at my dad's place and decided a mid-afternoon trip on the boat would cap off a lovely day. It did until Goosey's uninjured big toe ended up under an anchor. A river of tears and a black toenail later, we decided it might be time to head home.

At home, we had two little girls lying on the couch crying about their injuries. Lashings of Dettol and a few Princess band-aids and a dose of antibiotics later the patients were finally quiet and asleep. Here we are ready for another week battered and bruised (me on the inside). I think we've seen enough blood around here for now.