Mike was rambling on about one of his favorite topics: the Fair Tax. Noah was mocking him and climbed up into the bay window to use as a soapbox. He stood up and cracked his head hard on the top of the bay. He crumpled in a heap, and I was concerned about brain injury. To test him, I asked, "Do you know what day it is?" He was curled up in a ball, face down, but I heard him mumble, "No. But then I never know what day it is." I think his brain is intact.