What are the odds?

We are not a lucky family. I don't mean to say that we are unlucky, but if there is a contest where we are the only entries, it is very likely that we will lose. Even though we don't win any contests, I feel pretty lucky for each day that we escape some sort of major injury from our extremely fearless child. My father is convinced there is an entire legion of guardian angels assigned to our son, and they are almost entirely responsible for his lack of broken bones and ultimately his continued existence.

Today was a beautiful, unseasonably warm, February day. We spent a lot of time outside and got the chance to play in the backyard. We have a fenced backyard, so I can let our little guy play outside even if I have to be inside doing something boring and grown-up, like making dinner. (Don't freak, there is an entire wall of windows and I can see him from the kitchen, so really, I'm not a negligent mother, I promise.)

After my husband finished work, he headed out to enjoy the pretty day with the kid. They were out there for about 15 minutes when all of the sudden I heard real crying (not the "I want attention" kind) and in they came. When I asked what had happened, my husband held up one of those golf-ball sized prickly things that fall off the trees this time of year. (After some research I learned these are sweet gum seed pods.) We don't have one of those trees, and I had already removed what I thought was the only intruder from the yard earlier in the day. Apparently, our son managed to fall flat on his face directly on the ONLY one of these pesky things remaining in the entire backyard.

Lady Luck has a rather perverse sense of humor when it comes to us. Once again, we proved that the one in a million distinction is not always a good thing. Now don't misunderstand, I realize falling on a sweet gum seed pod is not in any way a travesty, it's just indicative of our lack of luck. I'm so assured of my own bad luck at this point, that on the rare occasion we decide to buy a lottery ticket, I make my husband purchase them because I'm certain that my bad luck will jinx us.

So tonight I'm sitting here beside a sweet little blond boy with a very large band-aid on his forehead. As I look at him, trying to figure out how to get the weird thing off his head, I can't help but think maybe I am lucky and just don't realize it. After all, I've got a great kid who, while often infuriating, is unbelievably sweet. I don't think it gets any luckier than that.