So as soon as we got all our stuff out of the moving truck when we moved to Bothell (WA), we decided unpacking could wait and piled the 8 of us into the van and raced down to the ferry that Saturday. Number #1 priority, FUN!. Never forget. ( Although I sometimes tended to confuse that with laundry, but I digress.)
About the next weekend tho, Dad and I turned our backs or were out or something, and Jared somehow clipped you with a toy drill. How is it that the boys in the family seem to end up with the lion's share of injuries? Some mystery. Anyway, we were spanking new to town, before the ubiquitous Urgent Cares materialized, and trying to find a doctor on the weekend to stitch up your face took a little doing. That perfect, gorgeous face---destined to accrue more than its fair share of scars. Shame. Guess maybe you were meant to be a tough guy in the movies?
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