I walked downstairs this morning and found actual blood/scab on the carpet. Now, the basement carpet is nothing special, and my standards for a clean house are pretty low, but we cannot just have blood on the carpet.
I was 100% certain I knew whose blood it was. Yesterday afternoon, I heard a child who I won’t identify by name hollering that he needed a paper towel because he was bleeding from his large elbow scab. His brothers took care of it, so I did not investigate any further.
This child literally comes home from school, reads the note, and says, “It wasn’t my fault! (Brother) ripped my scab off!” (FYI: they were wrestling.)
Yes. You read that right. Clearly it wouldn’t be his responsibility to clean up his own blood. Sigh.
So you know. Summer.