It looked like something out of a horror movie. One whole side of her face was covered in red. It splattered down her neck and blanketed her black and white checkered blouse. I’ll never forget the look on her face. It was a mixture of shock and dismay, followed by a round of unexpected giggles.
I breathed a sigh of relief at her kind reaction, hastily apologized, and then turned to face the perpetrator of this heinous act. My three and a half-year old looked up at me, eyes as big as saucers, the ketchup packet still crumpled under his hand. Continue reading