Is that a pickle?

Everyday around noon I pick Parker up from preschool. All of the cars line up, and the teachers bring, and buckle the children into the car.

Parker was running to my car, I was shouting "stop running" even though I knew he couldn't hear me. Next thing I know Parker is on the ground. Some how on the way down he whacked his face on the door jam.

 

He hit it hard, it was loud, it sounded as if someone hit the car with baseball. We iced his face, then he ate lunch, and rested for a while.

After his nap, I was looking at his massive boo boo, I also check out the few red bumps around his lips.  I said out loud "I wonder where those came from."  Parker said "maybe they are pickles?"  "You know like you have on your face Karen."  I said "oh you mean pimples" yes says parker, pimples.

Little rascal!