The Fork Incident. . .

Last night at dinner, out of the blue, Lucy inexplicably stabbed herself between the eyes with a fork. Hard. She might have thought she was a pork chop, that her brain had been taken over by aliens and she was trying to dig them out, or she simply had had enough of my lousy cooking and decided to end it all, but it was no accident. There was no coherent explanation, and we were all left, bewildered, to stare in horror as she clutched her face and screamed. She was left with two little holes on the bridge of her nose, about which she is very worried. Now here's a little tidbit of parenting wisdom which I will share with any reader who has a little girl, plans on having a little girl, or ever might be in the same room as a little girl. (I usually like to keep these to myself so as to allow other parents to discover the parenting pearls of wisdom on there own, and so as not to seem overly confident in my abilities as a parent. In this, however, I am certain to be right.) When a little girl is inquiring as to the severity of an injury she has sustained, always, always, always, in every case, DOWNPLAY! Do not do as Lucy's daddy did.
Lu: (tearfully, and with a look of great sadness and fear) "Daddy, how long will I have to have these holes in my skin?"
Daddy: "Only a week."
Lu: (wailing as if sentenced to a dungeon prison) "A WEEK!?! Oh no! I don't want holes in me for a week! Sob. . . Sob. . . Sob"
Luckily, Mom stepped in and told her she could fix it right after bath.
We all laughed so hard last night, that her feelings were hurt and no one was allowed to mention the "forking" again, but in the ensuing 24 hours, each of us bystanders continues to break into giggles at the memory.