The Destructo Dave Smackdown

It all started with a thump. Followed by some mild wailing.

'Honey, did you drop Davey on his head again?'

'Yes, but it was an accident.'

'Yeah, they always are. Should I call child services now or are you going to endulge me?'

Angie rarely makes sense, but I've lived with the woman long enough to not let this get in the way. I struggled, but finally I got her version of the truth.

Apparently, David had run up to his caring and loving mother, complaining that his foot hurt.

'Your foot hurts? Aaah, you poor thing. Let me just ignore gravity for a sec and yank your feet up here so I can inspect them.'

[Disclaimer: I was slaving away in the kitchen when Mama decided to pile-drive David into the floorboards, so I can only rely on her testimonial, which was not fabricated in any way, shape or form.]