December 1 -- 3.5 miles, road run, -10C
December 2 -- Day Off
Okay, stop reading now if you're easily disgusted.

Gone? Ok, good.

Frances and I woke up at 2:30 this morning to a certain almost-five-year-old crying beside the bed.
"I have a nosebleeeed," wails the child.
My response was (approximately):
"Grbleh?"
I hear Frances get up, and exclaim, "There's blood everywhere!"
That'll wake you up in a hurry. I open my eyes, and survey the trail of drops of blood that runs from Gareth's room, across the hall, around the side of the bed, back into the bathroom...
Crap. Well, no, actually, blood; but you get the point.
As I'm wearily pouring vinegar on the bloodspots, and helping Gareth to quell the drops from his nose, I ask, "How did it start, pal? Were you picking it?"
"Yes," was the tearful reply.
Exasperated, I ask the fateful question, "Why did you do that?"

"Because I was hungry."

Funniest. Grossest. Gareth Story. Ever.