The poor little dude fell off the third step today. He was climbing the stairs and just leaned backwards. His head-first dive to the floor was interrupted by the edge of a wooden chair (smack, thud). Ouch! Fortunately, his daddy, Clifford the Big Red Dog, and his icy made it all better.
I obsessively checked him for signs of a concussion all evening, but I think the only damage will be a giant bruise.
Maybe a cow sneeked behind him and tipped him over. I think I saw a cow with a t-shirt that said little boy tipper in training. Ha Ha. One of many bruises to come. He's all boy.
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OK, Harold, that made me laugh.
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