The Rock Star looks like we beat him up.
Not even two weeks ago he fell on our concrete steps and busted his lip.
Last week he was sitting on the counter top. He went to jump down and somehow got caught. Then he face planted and wailed. My father-in-law, who was visiting, thought he broke his arm. I thought he broke his face. His nose bled and a different portion of his lip turned black and blue.
Today, at church, he managed to smash into a chair. The entire right side of his face is either scraped, bruised, or both.
Boys. They're like magnets for pain and destruction.