Everything is fine.
I was hanging out in the (nice cool) basement with T. last night. He had his Little Tikes cart he was driving around in a circle on. I had my laptop I was wasting time on. Each circuit of the basement, he'd stop for a goldfish cracker and I would hand him one without taking my eyes off the screen, pleased with the general success of benign neglect.
Then for reasons I could not explain then or now, I looked down and saw blood drop stains all around the basement floor. Down goes the laptop. Up the stairs with me and T. hollering for papa saying he's bleeding check his feet. It turned out to be a teeny tiny little stubbed toe cut (I've bled all over carpet and linoleum not realizing in exactly this way), which R. carefully cleaned out, put a bandaid on and then taped over to discourage T. from removing the bandaid. No more basement riding last night. Instead, I got to go back down there with a wet rag and try to remove all the red.
This morning, J. is taking the day for appointments and so forth so it's just T. and me. All thru breakfast, constant requests for "basement?" So we're back down here with the cart, the laptop, the goldfish crackers. But hopefully, not the blood.