A sickening thud

The other night we were finishing up dinner, Robert was putting dishes in the sink and talking about ... something? I don't remember, but I was still at the table with Karlina on my lap, looking at Robert, when I felt her lean forward. I was holding her pretty securely so I wasn't worried about her squirming out of my lap, but as she leaned forward, her head smacked the table. Hard. She screamed for about twenty seconds, then started smiling again. Her head, however, had a big red line from the table edge, and it looked like it was fixin to form a gigantic goose egg. Oh, the guilt! I grabbed an ice pack, wrapped it in a towel, and stuck it on her head. She was having none of that. She pushed it away in the interest of getting down to play. I was sure she would have a bruise and a bump to beat all bumps. All that's left now is a barely-noticeable blip. The first of, I'm sure, many unfortunate incidents that will leave me feeling like the worst mother in the world.

 You see it? Yeah, me neither. I think she'll live. The table is fine, too. In case you were wondering.