Raccoon Eyed

I always remember wanting a black eye growing up. I remember when Christina accidentally elbowed me in the eye, I sneakily didn't ice it when Mom and Dad turned their backs hoping for a super tough looking war wound. Well, I got a black eye (sorta, it's more like a grey-eye) yesterday. But the worst part about it is that it is even more silly of a tale than being elbowed by my 8 year-old sister. I was trying to grab a cookie jar off a high shelf while thinking the jar lid was attached. Needless to say, it wasn't. And black eyes are not as exciting as I thought they were. It mostly just hurts and nobody notices. Scars are WAAAY cooler (FYI, for all you 6 year-old Amys out there.)