Black eye.

This morning Glen Close (our cat) gave me a black eye.

You may be wondering: Christopher, are you the weakest baby ever, that even a little cat can beat you up?

No! I'm not! I am even kind of strong ever since I started lifting weights. (I'm not really into the look of big muscles, but I enjoy being strong enough to do the things I want to do. I was weak growing up. So weak that when I was a teenager I lost an arm wrestle match to my sister Jodi{Granted, she was a fairly strong girl}. I found that my weakness was prohibiting for some tasks. Because of this, when I was 23/24 I deliberately made the effort to becomes strong enough for most manual tasks and it feels really nice. You want me to put a box full of rocks on top of your fridge? No problem.)

Glen didn't give me a black eye because I am the weakest baby, but because he got to me while I was asleep. Somehow he was able to not only get some cat sized boxing gloves but also put them on.

Above our bed is a window whose sill Glen likes to play on and jump off onto our bed. Occasionally he will jump on our belly, which hurts just like being punched in the stomach. It is a weird sensation to wake up startled from dreaming a cannon hit your tummy and the pain is still there.
After our numerous startled, hurt and angry reactions to his jumping on your guts he's seemed to learn it is not okay. (two other synonyms for stomach: middle, abdomen) However, I guess he wasn't able to generalize that knowledge and realize it is also not okay to jump onto my face, as he did this morning.

Marissa was downstairs doing homework and was surprised to see me come down with a bleeding eye. Thank God it was just my eyelid and not my actual eyeball. Now that the pain is gone I even think it is kind of cool having a black eye. I have never had one before.
Although because the corners of my eyes are so deep, the puffiness just makes it look like a normal eye hole corner.