It's been a rough one.

Today you pulled your highchair down onto you. You bonked the back of your head on the stove and the tray of the highchair landed on your mouth.

Tonight while spending time at the hotel where Grandma works you fell on the tile and hit your head. I guess you were spinning around a chair and slipped on the tile and hit your head pretty hard. And to top it all off, when Grandma was trying to console you she poked you in the eye with her finger.
I'm sure that by the time you went to sleep you felt a little something like this:




My poor baby girl, you had a rough one today. Sleep well my beauty.