Too many times, I've told N to sit right in his chair. He has a Lego top table, and a little wooden chair to go with it. There was two of them, but that's a story for another day. I just watched him fall -along with his chair- sideways, almost hitting his table.
He came over to me crying, because he hurt his back. First words out of his mouth whenever he gets hurt, are, "Is it bleeding?" I said, "No, looks like it's going to be a bruise, though." He started crying, so I asked him why that makes him cry. He said, "I'm afraid of bruises."
I swear, he's afraid of everything right now. Hopefully this is just a phase. I think my mom accidentally referring to him as "Nancy," was some sort of subconscious thing, in retaliation to his fears of...bruises (and everything else).
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