The Marietta Square. Such a place of delight and sense community for us. And it seems a place of injury and disaster.
2 years ago on a warm June night, we tore away from the square with Matty and his chin bloodied, in dire need of stitches. This warm June afternoon (Father's Day no less), I come home from the grocery store to find another post-ice-cream injury. Thank God this one did not end us up in the hospital.
A fall from up top the old iron train the kids like to play on. What broke his fall? Why his forehead. Can I get another "Thank God?" I won't even contemplate what could have happened. Just will share the proud war wound for your viewing pleasure.
It's not even the worst head injury he's ever had.
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