Major ouch!

I hate sudden spurts of slow motion.

Like when your three year old is very cold, so she puts her little hands into her coat pockets.  Then she gets so excited to be at the library that she begins running for the door.

Just as you start to yell, "Don't run with your hands in your pockets," but before you get to the "you might fall down" part, the slow motion kicks in.

You watch as she slowly falls to her knees.  As you remember her mittens on the car seat and curse yourself for not putting them on her, her belly hits concrete.  There is plenty of time to think, "Oh, maybe this won't be so bad after all" before her chin hits the pavement, and you can think of all sorts of laws of physics that will prevent her momentum from bringing her nose in contact with the sidewalk before it ever happens.  Then, there seems to be plenty of time to pray that she stops well before she rolls right up onto her forehead.

Funny how your body can't move as quickly as your thoughts at times like that.

Thankfully, the video she's been waiting for arrived while we were there, and they had a new set of activities we could take out that contain a book, a CD, and handbells.  She's watching the orchestra, and playing along with her bells, and only occasionally gently rubbing her sore, scraped face.