Scarface

Today's Lesson: Cut your kids fingernails.

We attended one of the young single adult wards a couple of weeks ago to hear my cousin Chris Jones deliver his farewell address. He's shipping out to California for the next two years to serve a mission for the church. After the meeting let out, I went to pick up Emma as she was running by, and as I swooped her up, her thumb nail came around and took a good size chunk of flesh out of my once flawless face. I thought she just gave me a little scratch at first, but when I saw the size of the shredded skin under her thumb talon, and the horror in her face as blood was dripping down mine, I knew she had gotten me good. I really didn't want her to feel bad about it, so after I cleaned it up a bit, I made sure that she understood that it wasn't her fault and that I was going to be just fine. She got over it pretty quickly, but the scab stayed for a few days and there is a faded scar there now, that may or may not eventually go away.

Part of me wishes I had had a better and more heroic reason for the scar when people at work asked about it the next day, but to "save face" (pun intended), I gave them an over-dramatized version of the story, not unlike the one you just read. The picture doesn't quite do it justice, but I think it makes me look more dangerous, and maybe people will start to think that I'm tough, instead of just tough on the eyes.