Cut Me Mick!

This weekend was not completely injury free . . .

Last Friday, when I picked up the girls from day care, I received a note from the girl's daycare: "Please cut Katherine and Caroline's nails."

This is one thing I will not do for the girls: Cut their nails.

You see, during the first month of the girls' life, I tried to cut Caroline's nails, and ended up cutting her finger. I was so traumatized that I drew blood from my own child, I have not yet gotten the courage to try to cut their nails again.

Well, Terri was working all weekend, and too busy Friday night to trim their nails right away.

I, of course, wouldn't touch them.

So of course, what happened on Saturday morning as I was holding Katherine?

Katherine loves to grab anything within reach, and so as I was holding her up over my shoulder to burp her, she reached up towards my face, and . . .

You got it -- a long one inch cut on my cheek from her sharp talon-like nails.

I was impressed with my little girl -- she actually drew blood!

Actually, I think her and Caroline talked, and Caroline asked her to "pay back" Daddy for the accidental cutting of her finger in Month One.

The cut is healing nicely. The only long-term damage is now whenever I see myself in the mirror, I think to myself, "Cut me Mick!"

Cut me, Mick!
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If you don't know what I'm referring to with that quote, click here.

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Here are some more photos from Daddy-Daughter Weekend:

Lounging in the nursery.
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Post Meal Stupor
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Caroline & Daddy: Look closely at Dad's right cheek, and you'll see the cut.
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