Ok, all of the blood has been cleaned up as of this posting. But, for a little while there, it looked like we were filming 'Carrie' in my bedroom. Skeletor, who has been particularly cantankerous this past week, was having himself a good, old fashioned meltdown. To emphasize some point (probably about how much I sucked or something; he was nonverbal at this point,) he slammed my bedroom door, knocking off my super awesome and not at all ironic 'Saved By The Bell' calendar. Not only was this a tragedy due to damages inflicted on my priceless $17 calendar, but Skeletor then proceeded to run angrily back into my room, stomping directly on the tack that was used to hold up said awesome calendar. Apparently, his tiny, little Flinstone feet are extremely vascular, because the wound (yes, I'm calling it a wound; it was that hardcore) just kept leaking blood all over the damn place. To make matters worse, Skeletor not only refuses to be comforted when he gets a booboo, but he also has issues with his feet. (I have to cut his toenails while he's sleeping.) So, needless to say, he was not down with my trying to staunch the blood loss. Or render any aid whatsoever. It broke my heart, but I had to just sit near him, and watch him scratch at the cut until the bleeding finally stopped. But, holy of holies, the pediatric developmental disorders gods (that totally exist) smiled on us! He actually agreed to get into the bathtub and wash all the blood and germs off of his pissed off little body. Hooray for small favors! So, I guess my point is, no matter how bad it seems, it could always be worse. Also, I have a kick-ass 'Saved By The Bell' calendar. Next month is Dustin Diamond!