Made my usual detour into the kids' bedroom to pull up the blankets everyone always shoves onto the floor, scoop up stuffed animals and return gently to their under arm sleeperholds, turn the radio down (which somehow always seems to get louder after I've put them down for the night), change the radio station (which seems to always magically slide off the classical station and jump over to hip-hop), check that everyone's still breathing (yes, still), and plant a final kiss on their foreheads before I stumble off to bed.
Sat on the edge on of Chago's lower bunkbed, leaned over him to kiss the back of his head, breathed in the scent of his hair, and WWWWHHHHAAAAMMMM!!!!!!!!!
He must've felt the hairs on the back of his head move because he jerked his head backward so fast and so hard that he busted my puckered lip right open AND THEN I proceeded to slam the back of my own head into the bottom of his top bunk as I tried to flee.
So, yeah, here I am today with a ball on my upper lip and one to match on the back of my head.
And no, there's no picture. Shut up.