Monday, September 7, 2009


New Scooter.

New Helmet.

New Kneepads.

Big Crash.

Two gashes on the chin.

Stomach slashed by wayward handlebar.

(Seriously, this sight was a tough one for Mom. And I'm no softie when it comes to first aid.)

Neosporin all around.

Poor Tucker.

"Mommy, I need kneepads for my face."

Not a bad idea, sweet boy.

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