Okay, so yesterday my blogger-friend-in-real-life, Globetrekking Mom, came over (along with another friend) for some scrapbooking and socialization. We grabbed our kids from school and headed to the house so they could hang out while we gabbed.
Not 10 minutes into our gabfest, there was an incident. It involved blood. Because all good incidents involve blood.
Globetrekking Mom's son sliced his foot (bad - we're talking stitches bad) on a piece of broken glass in our PLAYROOM. You know. The place where my kids go to play with their toys. Hell, it even has a padded floor so that they don't bang their heads.
But apparently, we also keep our broken glass in the playroom. Along with the knives, guns and liquor. Makes the kids tough. They're gangsters in training. In the 1920's.
This was (sort of) the first time I had friends over (really it's the first time I had friends over during the day when my husband wasn't here). So of course, there would have to be an incident. With blood.
Because everything's better when there's blood.
This is definitely up there on my "most embarrassing moments" list.
Tune in tomorrow for when Seth's friend Mike finds my crack stash. Then the whole bloody foot thing will seem like nothing.