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My hands are still friggin’ shaking

February 26, 2008

So I’m upstairs sitting at the computer checking the email and looking to see all the people who haven’t come to read my blogs today. The boys are downstairs- Adam’s watching “Monsters, Inc.” yet again, and Ian’s getting ready to do his homework. He just “needed to poop and get something to drink”.

All right, perhaps that was TMI. Sorry about that.

Anyway, I’m up here reading Nick’s blog when, all of a sudden, I hear the very loud sound of glass breaking and an instantaneous blood-curdling scream. First thought I had was that Adam impaled himself in the television screen. If you know Adam, you know that’s not out of the realm of plausibility. I run down the stairs literally four at a time- a major, major feat in dexterity for me, considering I can fall (and have fallen) up the stairs- and hit the living room. Adam’s fine; just sitting there, mouth agape, transfixed upon Sulley and Mike Wazowski trying to rid themselves of Boo. I’m wondering if he even heard the glass break.

Second thought I had was that Ian was standing on a chair and fell through the kitchen window. As before, if you know Ian, you know that’s not out of the realm of plausibility either. So I head to the kitchen table where he was supposed to be doing his homework- not there. I look in the kitchen and there he is standing in his socks in a pool of milk and broken glass, with a look of utter desperation on his tear-soaked face.

We get our milk from Oberweis in glass bottles (it stays cold longer and tastes a HELL of a lot better than milk in the plastic jugs). He was getting a glass of milk, and the bottle simply slipped out of his hands. So I yank him out of the glass-sprinkled milk and start inspecting fingers and toes for cuts. None- you’re kidding me!! YES!!!! No trip to Prompt Care!! But he’s bawling- not because he is cut or hurt or even simply scared by the noise, but rather because he “wasted all that milk”. I just smiled and comforted him and told him that as long as he’s okay, I don’t give a hoot about the milk.

Here I’m wondering how many tendons have been sliced and he’s concerned about wasting milk. Kids- never cease to surprise.

So I cleaned up the glass, toweled up the milk, and mopped the floor (yes, ladies, some men actually mop), and with any luck, Momma will never know. (Yes, ladies, I will tell her. Give me a little friggin’ credit.)

I tell you what, though- hearing the breaking glass and Ian’s scream scared the holy hell out of me. That ain’t the kind of adrenaline rush I need. My 40-year-old heart can’t take stuff like that.

Now I think I need to poop.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. Marjorie permalink
    February 26, 2008 8:19 pm

    Poor little guy!! He is such a sweetheart! Tell him I’m glad he’s okay, and not to cry over spilled milk.

  2. Johann permalink
    February 27, 2008 8:02 am

    Will do.

  3. March 6, 2008 7:36 pm

    That WOULD be enough to induce pooping! Oberweis milk ROCKS!

  4. Johann permalink
    March 7, 2008 7:42 am

    Yes it was. And yes it does. Welcome! 🙂

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