Tonight
Don’t touch that it is VERY fragile. Put that back. Put it back. Put it down. Don’t throw things. Don’t throw them at me. Stop running. Don’t hit me. Don’t hit the wall. Don’t hit.
Get the screwdriver out of your nose. Where did you get a screwdriver? You may not have a screwdriver with your big plate of air for lunch. Where did you get a screwdriver, I thought I put it away with the handgun and the machete. If you eat lunch, I will let you play with a screwdriver or possibly a small hand held rake or a really sharp knife. Those are the best sort of bribes, the ones with a little danger involved.
Done with dinner. Fine. Go play with your toys. The big plate of air has given him a jump in energy and he starts his evening of swimming laps in the kitchen. That is where the longest stretch of virgin terrain exists.
As I am about to leave for my very favorite book club, the club that I faithfully attend. He falls and splits his lip open and gets a bloody nose. His lip swells to a quarter the size of his head and there is blood. The kind of blood that makes me a little woozy and the kind that we don’t like to get on the carpet.
What is that you say? You have a dagger in your heart? Well get off the carpet, I am not going to be paying THAT carpet cleaning bill.
A series of calls ensue to mothers, doctors and ask a nurse; which I really appreciate being there at all hours of the day to ask my first time mother insane questions of. Does he need stitches? Of course no one knows with out having a look at him and so we head up to Primary Children’s Medical Center. Where they tell us that they don’t put stitches in the mouth unless you have bitten off your tongue or only bitten it off half way. This is good to know.
We head home with the most expensive sprite, stickers and neosporin samples on the planet. For the rest of the night we should be safe. Maybe he is hiding the screwdrivers in his bed.