On the Nose

As days go, it didn't start out too well. Joseph couldn't help but wonder what those green dangly things were and decided to pull one to find out. I come back in from the kitchen with the breakfast I had lovingly prepared for him only to find orchid compost scattered about and a small child wondering whether bark chippings were edible or not.
This meant having to go to my outside cupboard to get the dustpan and brush and the vacuum cleaner. I wouldn't have minded as much if I'd been dressed, but I was still in my pyjamas and that's never a good look.
Breakfast was done and dusted with some griping about the banana. I can feed him big chunks of it on a spoon but he is quite reluctant to feed it to himself.
After his morning nap we were playing about on the sofa. Like any fifteen month old he's boisterous and has very little concept of space. I rescued him from certain injury by stopping him climbing up on the arms many times. He doesn't bother to check where he's putting his feet and that usually lands him in trouble, or at least rather more firmly down on his rump than he would like.
I don't know exactly how it happened. Perhaps I just turned my head the wrong way or perhaps I just didn't see him bounce, but suddenly his forehead collided with the side of my nose with a sickening thud. I think I heard something click as he hit me. I had my mouth open at the time and the force of the blow made me close it - right onto my tongue.
It was so painful I couldn't do or say anything. Joseph slithered off the sofa and while I was waiting for the room to stop spinning he got into his toy box, found the plastic box of bricks, opened it and tipped the contents out in the toy box.
I've never bitten my tongue so hard I bruised it before. I kid you not, the end where I bit it actually turned quite a deep purple. Now it's faded a bit but it's still pretty sore.
Oh, my poor nose. It's had a rough ride in recent weeks, what with a nasty knock in a karate session from someone who had his mitts pulled back to far over his hands so I got a set of knuckles in the face rather than the protective padding of the mitt. A few days later at a karate session I was hit right in the nose again, although this time protective hand gear was being used correctly. It probably wouldn't have hurt so much, but for the previous event.
I decided to take this as a warning and refrain from sparring for a little while, only to have Joseph loving thrust a plastic lid from a lunch box very hard into my face and my poor nose copped it again. This week I had been starting to feel better around the nasal regions. I guess I'm back to wincing when I sneeze for quite some time. Nice one, Joseph.
The real kicker is that despite all the pain, and I am in quite a bit of pain, there is not a mark to show for it! Unlike my tongue, but tongue injuries aren't well known for garnering sympathy. Still, at least it's not worth an A&E visit, it would be more than just a little embarrassing having to explain what happened. At least at 15 months he's below the age of legal responsibility and couldn't be charged with assault.
This evening he got a bit fussy with his food. There was quite a bit of wriggling about and complaining and whilst I was feeding him his fromage frais he made a grab for the spoon. I thought he was being naughty, but he simply stuck the end of the spoon in his mouth and then tried to stick it back in his pudding.
A little stunned, I simply held out the tiny plastic pot and watched him put about five spoonfuls of pudding into his mouth with no assistance from me. A little bit of it went on the tray, a little bit went on his bib but the greater part made it into his mouth. He needed some help scraping the pot, but apart from that he did it all himself. I've tried helping him spoon feed himself before and he's not really shown much interest, it must be something Granny is doing.
Time to get the Red Book out and mark off another milestone.