What's that Noise?...Then the Injury

I know this blog is about Turner, but this is just too good to pass the opportunity to share my typical Amanda moment with you all.

I FINALLY get Turner's wagon emptied a few weeks ago with the promise to myself I would start taking Turner on walks in the afternoon. I want to explore our neighborhood, I don't get any exercise anymore, and I am running out of cool projects to do before dinner. SO, we go for a walk today.

The roads here are not paved the way they are in Kentucky. The city throws rocks down and ten tar on top of that and lets the cars drive over it to smooth it out. You can venture to guess the roads are NOT smooth. Cheryl can validate this. So Turner is chewing teeth as we ramble around the neighborhood in his wagon. We pass yappy dogs. "What's that noise Mommy." I must explain here that Turner says this phrase no less than four hundred times a day...and he is at preschool for about six hours a day. He normally knows the answer before he asks the question, but some voice in his head requires that he must ask the question nonetheless.

I scan the side of the street looking for the dogs (because it isn't enough to just answer his question, you must also identify the noise maker and explain, at times, why the noise maker is making the noise). So, he asks for the noise. I look for the noisemaker. Keep in mind that my walking pace is with the intent of exercise, so I'm speed walking. "There, Turner. Over there are the yappy dogs." Within a half second I feel as though my head has split open. I have made a terrible non-native Tucson error...walking into something prickly. A large tree/bush thing with spiky "leaves" attackes my head. Turner hears a new noise. "What's that noise?" "It's Mommy sucking in my breath, trying not to say something inappropriate." Man, this hurts.