Today I shut Bear's hand in the car door. On the hinge side. Uuggh! I hate even thinking about it. It happened during the hubbub (beware of hubbubs) of getting out of the car and over to the playground. As I was shutting the door, I glimpsed his hand near the crack but I didn't think it was that close. Turns out it was closer! It was sickening to see his little fingers wedged in the impossibly skinny door crack, hear his shocked pause and then panicked shrieking. Luckily for Mom's conscience, oh yeah, and for Bear, his fingers survived, nothing is broken and we didn't have to visit the ER. He was even able to eat a pretzel and hang on a monkey bar afterwards.
If only Moms recovered that well.
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