Unfortunately, I think the curb won.
This is the photo I received via text shortly after arriving home from the gym. I thought for sure he would want me to come pick him up, but M is nothing if not tough. He said it was road rash and he’d be fine walking/running the 10 miles back home.
My thought when I saw him when I got home from work? Thank goodness I restocked us on bandaids. We already had plenty of neosporin – I cannot live in a house without a generous supply of neosporin – and now neither of us can live in a house without an abundance of bandaids, gauze, and paper tape as well.
He’s fine tonight, his pride possibly more injured than his face/lip, elbow, hands/wrist, and knee/shin. One of his front teeth now has a tiny chip that will probably have to be looked at and attended to as well. It’s definitely escalated our search for yet another dentist.
I am so grateful the outcome was not worse than cuts and scrapes. And wounded pride, of course.