The front door burst open, startling me. My 4 year old daughter ran in holding her eye and crying in obvious pain. I pulled her hand away and cringed at the red, swollen mess I beheld. It looked like she had been punched. I started searching for the culprit asking her who had done it. “Grammy.” she said.
I held her at arms length, so I could gaze into her good eye. “Are you saying that Grammy punched you in the eye?” Continue reading The Hazards of Summer