Bug has a violent streak lately. Out of nowhere, she'll kick, hit, or scratch someone - the dog, baby Andrew, and, as of today, me. I sat down on the floor next to her, and next thing I know, she raked her razor-sharp nails down my face. Thankfully the only part that bled was a tiny scratch above my lip; otherwise, I don't look damaged.
Her mom and I sat there, dumbfounded, for a second, before she yanked Bug over to time out. I ran to the mirror, checked that I was still alive, and came back to play with the baby. I was not about to interact with Bug at the moment.
Speaking of, in an attempt to get out of timeout on the stairs, she banged her head against the floor on purpose a few times, then started crying for Mommy. Her mother - I love her - totally ignored her and kept flipping through her coupons. Eventually I got an apology from Bug, and she even brought me flowers when she and her mom went out on a walk. I stayed home and played with adorable Andrew.
So, yes. A scratch above my lip. It hurts to smile - which is so not fair. After how awesome our apartment looks with the cleaning V and I did this afternoon, I want to smile.