For this shiner right here, Roan can thank his Grandma Susan, who forgot to strap him into the stroller.
My mom's parenting style is classic 1970's in nature, a method my landlady describes as "benign neglect". She sneaks off during naptime to smoke cigarettes. She rolls her eyes at my repeated requests not to give Roan cranberry juice cocktail or put him to bed with a bottle, things that any self respecting 1970's parent didn't think twice about. I am vetoing my own childhood! Given that none of us wore seat belts until about 1982 or had much in the way of childproofing it's a wonder that any of us are alive, but here we are.
On the other hand, she is usually the one to first recognize when Roan is ready to try something new like finger food or a bigger bathtub. And he's an intrepid and nimble kid so the two of them make a dynamic pair.
We may just need to buy Roan a helmet.