. . . that Nora would be the first kid to break a window around here.
As we were signing a contract with our contractors to paint our house, Nora (who was spazzing out at the fact that we had company), ran into the mud room and stopped herself with our skinny, tall, low window. I didn't get photos of it before Willi taped it up (we were in a hurry to reinforce it with the monkey situation we have around here), but I tried to get some shots afterward.
She has no idea how freaking lucky she is. We could be at the ER right now (or worse). What's more: we've been scolding the kids for WEEKS about not smacking windows, etc. I'm still not entirely convinced that this little event will get her to understand she can't smack windows. However, when she saw that glass crack, she knew she did something bad. I took her stunned face moment to say, "This is why we tell you not to smack the glass. You could've really been hurt, there. Wasn't that scary?"
She agreed that it was, but she still has no idea just how scary it could've been.
I am still in shock for the following reasons:
- Henry wasn't the first kid to break a window.
- The window didn't actually break out (but it was seriously, seriously close).
- Our contractors were there when it happened—so we made arrangements for them to change out the window, too. Sheesh.
Count your blessings. Right? Craaaap.