Seven and I went to Monkey Joe's last night, which is basically a giant warehouse filled with mammoth bouncy houses, and they also have an area for arcade games. I sat down and propped my pregnant, swollen feet up to get some computer stuff done for work, and Sev was off and running.
Not even five minutes into it, a woman rushed over to me and said the words every mother dreads to hear: "I think your daughter is hurt." I literally dropped my laptop on the ground and ran over to Sev, who was crying hysterically. The woman explained to me what had happened: her little boy, who is probably younger than Seven, was playing ski-ball. He tried to roll the ball up the ramp but it didn't make it, so it came back, jumped up, and popped Seven right in the eye. There was a mark and a bruise, but no blood. After a few minutes of tears and hugs, she was good to go.
Today, there's a pretty good mark on her face, at the outer corner of her right eye. My dad came over this afternoon, saw the mark, and asked Seven what happened.
Her response: "This boy... he was playing this game... and HE HIT ME IN THE FACE WITH A CANNONBALL."
Man, I knew it was intense, but I didn't know it was THAT intense.
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