It only hurts when...

Thursday right after Brandi got to school, she bumped her nose on a metal bar at the top of the slide. I had to take her a clean shirt. When I talked to the secretary at the school she told me that Brandi's shirt was covered in blood. It wasn't. It was just a little bit of splatter, but a new shirt was warranted anyway. Who wants to go through the day with a blood spattered shirt?

The secretary also told me that Brandi was hit with a ball. When I found out it was a metal bar and that it had bled for 10 minutes or so, I was upset that they didn't let her have ice for it. But I held my tongue because I didn't want a repeat of last year's principal debacle. (though the principal thinks we are bffs since she found out I know J. Scott Savage. We so are not.)

Today Brandi had another soccer practice with the club soccer team. On the very last play, she got hit in the nose with the ball. She told me she heard it crack when the ball hit. Then she had a mouth full of blood. I am pretty sure that if it wasn't broken before it is now. She says it itches but it hurts to touch. And she can't breath. And it is swollen and her eyes have dark shadows.

It is hard to tell when she has a bruise. In fact, I can't remember ever seeing a bruise on her, but I am sure she has had them. She is just dark enough that they are hard to see. And if you were to look at her nose, it probably wouldn't look swollen, it would look like your stereotypical African-American nose. But for her, that is swollen.

So much for tea parties and baby dolls. I still get bumps, bruises and broken bones. Even if she is a girl.

(If you look closely at the bridge of her nose, you can see a darker line running across it. That is the bruise. And see the darker circles under her eyes? )

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Indeed.