Tumble With A Toy

I was on the floor. Hugo was on the couch. The edge of the arm, on the side of the couch which he claims as his own. Hugo hugs the left, I the right, Cesar is left with the middle of our aging couch. Cesar does try to claim one side or the other as his own, he just isn't so successful. Back to my story... As I looked up from my spot on the floor, I spied Hugo's tush in the air bent over his arm of the couch. The angle was not right. I feared our boy had finally met his match with the floor. Yes. It happened. The wailing, the tears, the fearful look on his face as he sprang up from his tumble spot. I hugged him and then peeled our boy away from my body to better inspect his face for a broken nose, missing teeth and the red, red blood. Nope, not this time. We hugged a minute more and then I carried him into the kitchen for ice in a bag to smoosh to his face. I tried my best to explain to our little Hugo that he was not Buzz Lightyear. That he did not have wings upon his back with which such a dive off the arm of the couch would be possible. He answered, "But I want to be Buzz, sniff, sniff, sniff... "