savagemama: Under the bus

Last weekend I saw what looked like a bite on Lucille’s shoulder. She was sitting on my lap facing forward when I first noticed the two thin red stripes.

“What’s that?” I said.

“I didn’t do that,” Eliza said. I wasn’t even really talking to Eliza. I was talking out loud, to the air, a little shocked at what looked to be a painful mark on my two-year-old.

“I didn’t think you did anything babe,” I said. “But, well, do you know what happened?”
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