Alex threw a basketball at the basketball hoop, it bounced off the rim, clipped Quinn on the side of the head and knocked him over. I was laughing so hard I could barely check to make sure he was okay. He was. I wouldn’t have laughed so hard had he not seemed so unaffected by it. He was totally blase. And the great thing is, he saw me laughing, assumed that something was hilarious, said, “funny,” and started laughing himself.
It’s good to laugh that hard even if it is at the expense of my lovely, trusting child. For, like, 20 minutes afterward, the poor kid had this big clod of dirt on the side of his forehead where the ball hit him.