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The Day My Niece Got Her First Boo-Boo
She was a tiny baby, but not so tiny that everyone acted like she was made of glass. She was somewhere between holding up her head and reaching for things and learning how to walk. (I have never been good at figuring out the age of children, especially babies.
We were all at some family party, a birthday or something, in a crowded, noisy room. There was cake. And my brother held his baby daughter, looking like every dream of his life had come true in that moment.
She gurgled and cooed and made all the adorable baby faces while my brother walked her around the room. She preferred to stay in his arms, and he was delighted to continue to hold her. His precious girl. His little peanut.
Someone called his name or tapped his shoulder and he must have turned around a little too fast, because she bumped her head on someone’s shoulder, pushing her tiny lips into her new baby teeth. She started to wail, clutching at her mouth.
My brother twisted his head around to see what happened, and saw the tiniest bit of blood on her lip. His wife saw it at the same time, and turned her new mother fear into something more manageable — anger. She moved to the other side of the room while my brother held his daughter and dabbed at her lip with a napkin.