Quote of the day: The cement was stronger

I picked up Brielle from school and she had this righteous shiner. It was on the same eye that attracted a log while sledding last January. This time she'd just been walking to music class when there was a sudden disagreement between her foot and the curb, and her right cheek ended up in the middle of it.

At the sight of the scraped bruise, I gave her the sympathy I genuinely felt, although she was pretty well over it. Once in the car, I decided she was big enough, humorous enough and over it enough to engage in her first round of the standard game I was raised with whenever we had a gnarly run-in with anything inanimate, in which said obstacle becomes the object of the parent's feigned concern. Let's call it, "Compassion for Cudgels."

Here's how my version of it went today:

"Brielle, that looks really ouchy. You must have hit that curb hard."

"Yeah."

"It's a good thing your face is so strong. Is your face stronger than the cement? Did you break the cement?"

"No, Daddy, I didn't. The cement was stronger than my face. The cement broke my face."

Asked and answered.

And then, "Dude!" (I've never heard her say this before. I have officially imitated Crush from Finding Nemo for her one too many times.) "How do they make cement? I know they must use trucks to make it."

Yep, my little grommet is definitely over it.

Righteous, dude.