Please don't call DHR...

So my oldest minion is prone to injury. 

He is eight and we've been to the ER six times. 

In fact he just turned eight.

"Woman, don't share my business."

Sorry, I'm gonna need to share. 

Now go put some pants on.

Anyway....

Lets go through the times shall we?

1) Got into the tylenol at age two.

"Next time I'll stick to cake."

2) Pneumonia at age three - resulted in two days in the hospital.

"It was sad."

3) Staples in his head at age 4 - he fell off his Dad's desk at work.

Huge scar still there to this day. 

"Hey, it could have happened to anybody."

4) Stitches at age 5 from falling out of his bed - while sleeping.

"Sleeping is hard work!"

5) More stitches at age 6 from getting hit in the lip with a plastic pipe. 

"I forgive you Haden."

6) X-Rays at the ER at age seven because he swallowed a magnetic marble.

"No questions, please."

The middle child however...

Never been to the ER. 

He hardly ever even gets sick. 

But tonight...

Where to start???

Where to start???

So a few days ago the boys were outside playing when a stranger slowed down and rolled down the window of his car. 

He tried to talk to the boys. 

They freaked out and ran inside. 

Well..."they" didn't. 

The oldest freaked out and proceeded to "beat on" the younger one 'til he came inside too. 

"Beat on" - those are his words not mine. 

Ever since then the oldest hasn't wanted to go outside. 

Tonight though we insisted on taking a walk after dinner.

So he comes downstairs carrying this:

Yep. 

Its a frying pan. 

The obvious choice of weapon for only the most discerning of eight year olds. 

In retrospect we should have seen what was coming.

So he gets to swinging his arms carrying that pan and...

WHOMP!

The middle child gets it right in the forehead. 

I can just see DHR showing up.

"See officer,

We decided to let him take his frying pan on a walk with us and..."

"You're going to need to come with me, ma'am."

Minions!

What a bunch of trouble!