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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