the stuntman and the artist

I have called my little baby girl "Prettiness" for this is what her name was before she had a proper one. Her oldest brother concocted this for her, he said, "Mommy, we could call her Prettiness and put ribbons in her hair," after we discovered we were having a girl. So it stuck, and we still do call her Prettiness from time to time. To maintain the anonymity of my children, I have come up with pseudonyms for them as well. The stuntman (D) is the four year old. The artist (K) is the five-going-on-twenty-year-old.

Today was a bit of a difficult day, the boys are getting stir-crazy, we haven't gone anywhere interesting because Prettiness has been so sick. This afternoon while I was changing her diaper, the boys came rushing in, both in tears-but not really real tears- and crying a little too loudly. (They needed some attention.) Well, it seems that the Stuntman had punched the Artist in the mouth, and the Artist was crying because this hurt his lip (small amount of blood as proof). The Stuntman was crying because, of course, he hurt his hand on the Artist's teeth! I burst out laughing when he told me this, and when I laughed about it so did he. What a faker! Anyway, he learned the important lesson that teeth hurt when you punch them.

Sigh.....Boys.....My bane and delight.