Kids

We took the preschoolers outside this morning, which actually turned out an unprecedentedly good choice. We had seven kids in class, Lily and Laci among them, meaning chaos was the basic order of the day. There was also a little blonde boy named Bryan, who had a penchant for getting hurt, when he wasn't sneaking off by himself to go look at the creek. I think he managed three injuries in fifty minutes. Five minutes into the second round of bawling, though, I couldn't help but wonder how much of it was just for show. The third time, though, the cause of the tears was legitimate enough. We'd just finished telling the two girls walking in front of him to stay away from the moving swing, and figured he had heard and would heed the warning. Of course he didn't. Bryan proceeded directly in front of the oscilling swing and its screaming riders. BOOM! He was knocked flat on his stomach. The cry, like the first two, was delayed, but by far the most dramatic. He absolutely wailed.