I took a pretty hard spill this week on a run and scraped up my hands and elbow. Aaron is fascinated with my injuries. He'll ask to look at them and then say, "Oooooo, that's a bad one" multiple times a day.
Out of the blue, he's come up with a few comments about my fall that have me in stiches. The first day he told me: "I think you should go on another run where you were, and pick up all of the pieces that you lost. Then you can tape them back in there."
Yesterday he said: "Mama, when you fell, did the whole world shake? And then all of the other runners fell down too?"
This kid of ours - he's constantly cracking me up.