Last year you received your first cut, Baby Rangirl. It required a band-aid and a little boo-boo kiss from mommy. It was your first encounter with blood since sliding out the womb. 2013 is a different story.

Saturday you did that little head-banging thing you’ve been enjoying (reminiscent of your daddy circa 1992 via Metallica and Guns N Roses). And wham-o! Top jaw slams into the playpen’s rail. We handled it well- ice, peach Popsicles, and Mommy Ranman didn’t consult a doctor or Google.

Once the bleeding subsided and you resumed trashing the house we felt you were well on your way to recovery. This was our first major parental duty outside of preventing hunger and diaper rash. We are responsible parents.

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Um, that was photoshopped. Don’t call social services.