Ludicrous Mama is back. And this time, she’s got something sharp. You can read her at Biting The Hand That Feeds You.
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| Photo by Dale Eurenius |
Sometime after my laying-like-a-slug-in-bed at the hospital, sitting in the NICU in a constant state of semi-panic, and then laying-in-bed-like-a-slug-at-home; but before my daughter started teething at 9-months and started screeching whenever we’d head to the computer room, I played a lot of computer games. I mean, like, a LOT. One time, while in a big event with 39 other online players, I ate dinner at my desk (And by “one time,” I mean this one particular specific time. I ate lots of dinners at my desk while playing). We all did. Me, my husband, and our friend who also played. We had steak that night. Which necessitates steak knives.
So I’m sitting at my desk, with a baby on the Boppy on my lap, and my dinner on a pile of crap on my desk nearby, playing my healer character in this online game. I look down in the middle of a fight to see my infant with a steak knife in her mouth, pirate-style, like she’s ready to board my vessel any moment now. Yarr! Naturally, it is sharp-side-in. I shriek, and get it away from her as gently as I can, while trying not to cut her face. She starts screaming, and I can’t tell if there’s blood. She’s freaking out. I’m freaking out. My husband starts freaking out.
There was no blood. Phew. Laugh it off. Have husband cut up the rest of my steak like I’m a child (and confiscate my knife) and off we go to continue playing.
She’s still in my lap. I lean forward to take a bite of food, then BAM! Bash her head into my desk. Not even kidding. She had a little bruise there for a few days.
Track forward. We’re eating dinner on the couch while watching TV (Yes. I know families shouldn’t eat in front of the TV. Didn’t you read the title of this blog? Go ahead. I’ll wait.). I keep my plate (with steak knife) on the back of the couch. I mean, what totling can possibly reach all the way up there? Especially when I’m ignoring her and watching TV and she’s busy playing on the floor? Apparently, mine. Next thing we know, there she is, happily sitting on the floor, with my steak knife in her gob. Yeah.
She started toddling at around 10 months, and immediately began to do what I called “fishing” in the kitchen. She’d wobble around and reach up onto the cutting board (which sticks out of our counter) and fish her hand around to see if there was anything interesting (When she got taller, she added in the edges of the counter tops as well. And later added the sophistication of pushing her little stool around and exploring the whole thing.). What? You think she found a knife? But, don’t you think we’d have learned our lesson? Yeah. Not so much. Knife. And this time she added running to the mix. Yay.
Surprisingly, she has never been cut with a knife (or scissors). Just my engagement ring (it’s a square-cut diamond). And she has never been hurt or gotten hold of contraband when my husband’s watching her. He can’t even just drop her a little just to make me feel better. Jerk.
(This is anonymous, yeah? I won’t have CPS come banging on my door tomorrow? Right? Right?)
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.
eek! My hubby has the bad habit of leaving things like knives, switch blades, and scissors within reach all the time. I put said objects away usually without a word. But, I get admonished for things like cracked lips on my kids and dry skin…Sigh….I could tell you a story about a toothbrush that did cause bleeding…
I have this great photo of our friend's baby holding a plastic, Halloween butcher knife. I probably should've tracked it down and used it for this post. We all thought it was so funny at the time and joked about all the dangerous stuff kids get into. A few months later, they found her basically licking an electrical outlet after crawling up the stairs. Gotta love 'em.