Well that's a pretty picture isn't it? And this is why sometimes you just can't trust dad with the kids. Now, it's not like I sent them down into the basement with sharp sticks and told them to play while I watched TV and drank beer. Although, maybe it's worse that I was actually playing alongside them when this happened. Maybe my only saving grace is that I wasn't the one wielding the stick that found it's way to Anna's forehead.