What it means to be a boy

You know the picture from my earlier post of me sitting in my wagon, waiting to be pushed? Well, as much as I used to love pushing my wagon around, now I love to be pushed in it. Unfortunately, my wagon is not made for riding (the sides are only about 2.5 inches tall and it's pretty wobbly), as I discovered yesterday. I was outside with Daddy pushing me in my wagon when I took a header on the pavement. As you can see, I landed on my face. It did not feel very good.

I'm a pretty resilient boy, so after some tears and cuddling with Daddy, I felt much better. And today the scratches and bruises are already almost gone! Apparently healing is one of my super powers. Which is a good thing, because this isn't my first facial contusion, and I have a feeling it's far from my last.

Luckily, Mama already got me a real wagon that I will be able to sit in to be pulled around the neighborhood. It has two seats so I can share it with my little brother or sister, and in the meantime I can stretch my legs and enjoy the ride! With a seat belt on. And maybe a helmet.