A Black-eyed B

On Sunday, Björn took a cricket ball in the eye. He was bowling and one of his team-mates threw the ball back to him. He caught it in front of his face, it popped through his hands, hit his eye and sent him flying. Apparently he rolled three times before coming to a stop and very nearly got fined for language, as he gave voice to his pain. The captain decided to be merciful since the lad was obviously in agony, but he was cautioned. This is how he looked when I collected him from the cricket ground:And this is how he looked a day or so later when the swelling had gone down and the colour had come up:
He is very proud of his shiner - it's his first.

But who would be a teenager today? On Monday, as he walked home from school, he passed a woman walking with a much younger child who turned to his mother and stage-whispered, "Mummy, what happened to that boy's eye?" The mother's reply? "He's been fighting dear." When my son related this to me, my blood positively boiled. By and large (the swearing incident notwithstanding) he is a good kid, and he gained his black eye in the honest pursuit of a wholesome pastime. He didn't rise to the bait, which shows more maturity than I would have! I would have taken issue with the woman had I been with him, or even in his shoes.