Keaton walked into the kitchen…

…and asked if she could have a brownie for dessert, so I reached to grab the pan out of the oven (where we keep everything the dog might knock off of the counter and eat), turned and inadvertently whacked her in the head with the glass pan.

Now, keep in mind that last week, when I almost knocked myself out bashing my skull in (seriously, that’s how it felt) on the freezer door, no one paid a lick of attention, so my sympathy was low, but I still felt bad.

“Shoot, sorry! Are you OK?”

Keaton, ignoring me and running into the living room to Brad, who asked what happened: “Mom hit me with a glass!”

Rolling my eyes. If CPS ever shows up at our house, now you know why…

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