Mary and I, along with Dan Dumas, made a quick trip down to Kosair Children’s Hospital last night to check on little William Allen, son of Jason and Karen Allen, who managed to cut his fingers to the bone playing with a tape measure. After getting stitches under sedation, the little fellow is ok and will probably not even remember this little incident after a few years.

His mom and dad will remember it. I’m guessing that there won’t be a tape measure lying around. It looked so innocent earlier today, but now it looks dangerous. I played with one as a kid all the time, zipping it in and out. There was no reason to think that it was dangerous, until it was. Little boys can find ways to make anything dangerous. That’s the way with so much of life.

Childhood mishaps are a part of the package. Let’s be thankful that most are quickly forgotten. William just turned 3 last week. He offered me a piece of his chocolate Diego birthday cake but never delivered. Meanwhile, Allen child number five is due in a matter of days.

I’m betting they don’t use a steel tape measure to measure the baby’s length.