Thursday, July 29, 2004

Kids will be the death of me.

I was reading Tricia's blog the other day. The post about how her sister got a piece of crayon stuck in her nose when she was a child reminded me of a couple of experiences with my son (now 11) when he was an infant. Things that I planned on posting about if I ever ran out of ideas. But then I forgot because, let's face it, I'm me.

The first was when he got a Skittle stuck in his nose at the age of three.

The problem with a Skittle in a person's nostril is that it's a hard shelled, oval candy with a not-so-soft, chewy center. It's not like an M&M which, I would imagine if it had to, could melt in a kid's gooshy nostril. A Skittle will just get harder as time passes. And the slick mucus coated shell really doesn't give the tweezers something to latch on to.

I have no idea how long I sat there, tweezing inside that boy's head, trying not to wedge the candy even further in, or slip, leaving him looking like a disgraced mobster while he sat there sobbing and saying he was sorry. Eventually I was successful and he was relieved.

I showed it to him and said, "Okay, now which hole does the candy go in from now on?"

He pointed to his open mouth.

I patted him on the head and tossed the Skittle in.

I'm kidding. I threw it in the trash. I'm not that nasty. Although then he cried about me throwing the candy away. Sometimes there's just no pleasing people.

And that's not the only thing that has been trapped in there. He loved to put things in his nose. It got to the point where if I couldn't find my keys I would check his nose.

Okay. Not that bad. But man, the stuff that went in there that shouldn't have would make quite a list if I could remember it all. Anything he could reach that he could fit in a nostril, he did.

Why did he do it? I don't know. Maybe it was because his shorts didn't have pockets and he was afraid of losing things. Kind of like the way a hamster stores extra food in its cheeks. "Oooh! A Skittle! Hmmm. No pockets and I'm not quite hungry just now." *SHLURP* Up the nose it goes "for later." Never mind that it will take dad and pointy bits of metal to retrieve it. It's a good idea at the time to a 3-year-old, I'm sure.

The second thing I was reminded of was the incident where, at the age of two, he nearly managed to kill me. This is a quicker story because it happened really fast.

I was alone with him, and he was all happy and smiling while sitting in his jammies on the floor.

He looked so cute. I picked him up, lifted him high over my head and said, "You sure are a happ*ACK!*" and then I proceeded to gag and choke. Luckily, I didn't drop him.

You see, unknown to me he had a penny in his mouth. When I was holding him up and smiling at him, he smiled back. Not having any teeth to KEEP the penny in his mouth, it fell with perfect accuracy into my open mouth while I was talking and hit me in the back of the throat. There it did its best to end my life. But no dice baby! I'm tougher than a penny!

I quickly lowered him to the floor and gagged until the penny fell free while my son sat in front of me smiling away. He was still cute through the tears in my eyes. Bless him.

So the lesson that I learned from that incident, for all you new parents out there (Mark), is to NEVER trust a baby above the level of your head. There's no telling WHAT may fall out of them. Stuff you never even saw go IN them.

Also, if you are missing something small, check the baby.

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"Boring a hole in the patient’s head creates a door through which the demons can escape, and - viola! - out goes the crazy."