My grandmother had a baby sister who, at age two, pulled a pot of boiling something on top of herself and died. Isn't that awful? I used to hear that story when I was a child and think a. how awful, and b. who leaves a baby alone with a pot of boiling something anyway?
Dude. I am eating those words now.
Silas' little fingers are still pink with new skin, as they are finally - thankfully (I was beginning to worry) - healing from his show down with my front tire a few weeks ago. And his little forehead has just scabbed over from his fall off his brother's bed last night. Then, tonight, he fell on his FACE onto an open bottle of baby shampoo (which has a sharp edge - who knew?) and now has a brand new black eye and cut by his nose that probably could use a butterfly bandage, except I am SO not taking both babies to the ER at 7 pm by myself just for a tiny little butterfly clip. That's after I threw him into the bathtub because he'd taken off his poopy diaper and BOUNCED in it while I was on the phone (for, I swear, less than two minutes. Also? We were in the SAME ROOM). When I finally scraped the poop off his heels, he ran over to a corner and peed on the hardwood, then tried to blow bubbles in it before I sopped up his fun with a towel.
Good. Word. If anyone ever reports me for child abuse (and I feel certain they will at this pace. Who believes any mother who says her child fell on a bottle of baby shampoo or grabbed the inside of a car tire? And yet, I couldn't make this stuff up), you guys will be my witness. I am doing my best to keep this child in one piece. But man, some days he's just too quick for me.
And you better believe I never leave him alone in the kitchen. Because if anyone could figure out how to pull a pot of boiling something down on his head, it's Silas.