Finley is a temper-tantrum thrower. I'm talking, all out flings-herself-to-the-floor-without-regard-to-surroundings kind of tantrums. Anything can set her off, and does, multiple times a day. One moment everything is fine, then suddenly, whether she's standing on tile, on the stairs, or in front of sharp, painful objects (all of which have happened), she rears back screaming and flinging around on the floor. Sometimes it is so ridiculous it is almost funny. Almost.
I kind of wish I could say that this particular owie was caused by one such tantrum as these, seeing how I must witness them several times a day, it seems fair. Am I a bad person? Possibly. But no, this painful gash was actually just caused by Finley tripping over nothing and hitting her mouth on the quilt stand. It was sad.
Once we got the bleeding under control, we were able to see that she bit clear through her mouth! Ouch.
Fortunately, is has healed up just fine and doesn't look like it will leave too bad of a mark. But really, why does growing up have to be such a scarring experience?