One night in the bath, my 3-year-old accidentally stabbed me in the face with a toy unicorn. Shocked, I yelled out, causing him to cry. I hastily wrapped him in his favorite green towel. “Can I kiss it better?” I said. He shook his head. My wife removed his shrieking body, leaving me covered in soap suds and shame. The next day at breakfast, I had a small wound on my cheek. My son, covered in cereal, pointed at it and said, “You got a booboo?” I nodded. Leaning over, he kissed it better. It’s fixing, not breaking, that matters. — Ben Bernstein
Real Life of an MSW 
Aww, so cute!
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Thank you for reading, and commenting.
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Awwww! Reminds me of when my daughter hit my grand dad in his eye after having cataract surgery. I won’t to cut her fingers off but daddy told me to leave her alone. I don’t think she was 2 yet. But daddy was my life.
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Sounds like an accident on your daughters, part, and your granddaddy sounds like a man who understood the meaning of grace.
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