Bicycle woes and hurt pride

A few days ago I let the kids ride their bikes out front for a few minutes. Preston hit the back of Emma's scooter, and found an abrupt ending to his ride. I turned to see him writhing in pain on the dirty, nasty black top. It was a small fall, but I think he was needing some extra attention that day, and this was the end result.

I'm not kidding you when I say, there were no bruises, not blood, no scratches. Only his hands and elbows would have been dirty had we been able to keep it at just the fall. Instead, he rolled around for a few minutes to get good and dirty.

This is just what happens when a boy falls off his bike when he is being silly and doing dumb things, and would like to get someone in trouble for it rather than admit that he did it to himself.

One shower, and one load of laundry later, it was as if nothing had happened. I love having boys, but I fear this is just the beginning of many more dirt covered days.