Seconds ago Logan did a major header, falling backwards into our metal and glass table. A very loud "thunk" reverberated through the living room as his head contacted the metal leg. He cried for all of 15 seconds, but it scared the crap out of Carly and I...perhaps even more so than the virus I had the other day. Anyway, we put some frozen vegetables on the back of his head, but he doesn't seem affected in the least.
While getting the vegetables out of the freezer, Carly yells at me and repeats, "take that table downstairs now." I had mentioned that we should get rid of it, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to get rid of it since it's our only table up here. Now she is positive she wants it downstairs, and I agree. Where are we going to do all our computer business now?
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