You've heard of those birds that fly straight into windows without even batting a little bird eye?
Eliza is trying to join the flock.
Yesterday we were the American Museum of Natural History, a fun place where we go almost every week.
The newest wing is the Rose Center for Earth and Space. There is a LOT of glass.
Even the gift shop has spotlessly clean glass walls. So clean that a certain bat out of hell almost-four-year-old didn't quite see the window as she ran for joy at the prospect of a day at the museum. Eliza slammed into the glass wall so hard it shook and there were audible gasps from everyone within 100 feet.
Not being one to launch into unnecessary hysterics, I paused and waited for Eliza's reaction as she bounced off the glass. She grabbed her face and started screaming "I hurt!, I hurt!" I did a quick triage and saw no red marks on her forehead, accounted for all of her pearly whites, checked her face and head for bleeding and checked her mouth for a split lip. All was well. Until:
Yup, that tiny nose turned into a gushing geyser of blood. But calm and some gentle pressure and an entire package of wipes prevailed and about ten minutes later Eliza was back to her old self, running headlong to the elephants yelling "I'm OK. I'm OK!"
Things got a kind of messy an hour or two later when Eliza let out a sinus clearing sneeze, which pretty well emptied the Hall of Biodiversity from onlookers, but that too was cleared up with only a handful of wipes. I was concerned that she might have broken her nose, but given the lack of swelling, the fact that she let me touch it and her pretty focused digging for boogers later that evening, I am assured by medical professionals in the know that it is very, very doubtful anything is broken. And here is the proof that the nose is just dandy: