About two hours after our return from Vegas, our five-year-old was so excited to see us he was jumping on the couch. Up and down. Up and down. He lost his balance . . . CRACK! . . . and his cute, but very hard head, slams into my eye. I now have a bona fide black eye.
I am sporting a Rocky Balboa shiner with a rainbow of purple, blue and yellow completely encircling my eye.
And the timing stinks. Of course, I haven't seen anyone since before leaving for Vegas, and so now when I explain how I got my shiner, I invariably get that all-knowing look and a "hmmm-hmmm."
Like, what do they think? I had too much of a good thing in Vegas and tripped on a curb right there on the strip? Sheesh.