This morning Thing 1 was quitely playing on the floor, so I let myself blissfully snuggle back up with Thing 2 in the bed. I was half drifting back to sleep, when I heard a little voice say,
"Meh Meh? Peas?" (Meh Meh is her word for Medicine. She can say "phalanges"now, but will she say "medicine"? Hell no.)
I cracked one eye open enough to see Thing 1 hovering near the edge of the bed rubbing her gums. Ah, teething. "In a minute", I murmured. I heard her scurry around the room, and settle into her favorite hiding place under Thing 2's bassinet. Assuming she was safe for the time being, I allowed myself to shut my eyes again for a few more seconds.
A short time later (long enough for a dream about chasing my children through Star Wars, only to realize that the baby in my arms had turned into a puppy, which I decided was ok since I wouldn't have to teach it how to talk), I heard that delightful little voice declare, "Mmmmmmm Meh Meh all gone! I LIKE it! MmmmmHmmmmm I do! Find'a da Meh Meh, I drink it ALL GONE!"
I jerked my head of the pillow and saw through blurry eyes a tiny fist holding a very empty container of children's tylenol in front of my face. Oh. My. God. I just allowed my child to poison herself so I could dream about Star Wars and puppies. I flew out of bed sputtering incoherently.
Thing 2 was blinking slowly wondering why I was being SO LOUD, Thing 1 was standing on her head with her eyes shut in a vain attempt to become invisible, and I was googling poison control. I told the woman what happened and she said,
"Yep. She'll be fine. Just don't give her any more."
It felt rather anti-climatic for the amount of adrenaline in my system. No emergency room? No vomit inducing? No leaping tall buildings? Umm...fine then...I guess I'll get dressed or something.
I put the medicine even higher up (child proof my ass, they obviously never met my child), and had an intervention with Thing 1 about how much she has to live for.
Now I am keeping a wary eye on Thing 1 (half expecting her to pass out or get the munchies or SOMETHING), and removing the blanket Thing 2 has managed to wrap around her head. No suffocating today, kid. If my children would stop trying to kill themselves, I would like to finish my coffee.
"Meh Meh? Peas?" (Meh Meh is her word for Medicine. She can say "phalanges"now, but will she say "medicine"? Hell no.)
I cracked one eye open enough to see Thing 1 hovering near the edge of the bed rubbing her gums. Ah, teething. "In a minute", I murmured. I heard her scurry around the room, and settle into her favorite hiding place under Thing 2's bassinet. Assuming she was safe for the time being, I allowed myself to shut my eyes again for a few more seconds.
A short time later (long enough for a dream about chasing my children through Star Wars, only to realize that the baby in my arms had turned into a puppy, which I decided was ok since I wouldn't have to teach it how to talk), I heard that delightful little voice declare, "Mmmmmmm Meh Meh all gone! I LIKE it! MmmmmHmmmmm I do! Find'a da Meh Meh, I drink it ALL GONE!"
I jerked my head of the pillow and saw through blurry eyes a tiny fist holding a very empty container of children's tylenol in front of my face. Oh. My. God. I just allowed my child to poison herself so I could dream about Star Wars and puppies. I flew out of bed sputtering incoherently.
Thing 2 was blinking slowly wondering why I was being SO LOUD, Thing 1 was standing on her head with her eyes shut in a vain attempt to become invisible, and I was googling poison control. I told the woman what happened and she said,
"Yep. She'll be fine. Just don't give her any more."
It felt rather anti-climatic for the amount of adrenaline in my system. No emergency room? No vomit inducing? No leaping tall buildings? Umm...fine then...I guess I'll get dressed or something.
I put the medicine even higher up (child proof my ass, they obviously never met my child), and had an intervention with Thing 1 about how much she has to live for.
Now I am keeping a wary eye on Thing 1 (half expecting her to pass out or get the munchies or SOMETHING), and removing the blanket Thing 2 has managed to wrap around her head. No suffocating today, kid. If my children would stop trying to kill themselves, I would like to finish my coffee.
1 comment:
Scary! (And hilarious. Sorry, didn't know such a combo would be possible in this situation.) Glad you are all okay!
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