While Laurel and I were at guitar lessons, Ethan face-planted on the concrete sidewalk outside our front door. There was nothing Greg could do about it other than clean him up and console him, so he took some photos.
In addition to his nose job, Ethan provided himself with a smashed finger courtesy of our trash can's step pedal. He somehow wedged his finger between the pedal and the can and it did a number on him.
This is all, of course, not including the several tumbles he took today at the Little Gym. Those didn't faze him one bit.