As I sat nursing Whoops on the couch, Bubba-Love came over to me with the most distressed look on his face. Between deep sighs and pouts he said,
"Mommy, look what Bastian did to me."
Bastian? He hadn't seen Bastian since last week. What the heck?
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
At which point, Bubba-Love held out his arm to me, wrist side up, and pointed to the blue area just under his palm.
"Look. It's all bruised and blue, " he said with tears forming in his eyes. "Bastian pushed me, I fell down and I got a bruise!"
I reached over and kissed his little wrist and watched as he jumped down from the couch and sprinted back over to the TV room. No worse for wear and now completely "cured."
Poor Bastian. Poor kid is miles away, minding his own business, yet being blamed for something I'm pretty sure he didn't do, i.e. putting veins in Bubba-Love's arm.
Remind me to watch this one closely when he's a teenager.