Bloody noses

On Saturday Leroy crashed at a full run into a shelf at the store. It was one of those shelves that holds sale-priced shirts and pants in the middle of the aisle. I checked his face for broken skin, but didn't see any, so I picked him up and kept walking through the store, trying to comfort my screaming child. I glanced at his face and discovered it was covered in blood! He had a bloody nose and was crying it all over me. I turned around and made my way to the bathroom to clean him up.

He calmed down and agreed to let me clean him up when I offered to let him wear the new shirt we had just picked out to buy. He was fascinated by the red on his face and even helped me make sure I got it all cleaned up. (He even kept looking in mirrors later to check to make sure there was no red on his face.)

This is Leroy modeling his new shirt in the changing room:

This morning I got a bloody nose (I sometimes get spontaneous ones). When he learned that I had a bloody nose, he asked, "Mom, what you crash into?"