Friday, October 26, 2007

The Twenty Worst Minutes of My Life

I just cut a hunk of skin out of my sweet, innocent, trusting baby boy's thumb! I was cutting his nails, so confident because I've never even nicked him in three months time that I decided I could do it while he was awake, piece of cake!

Oh, the blood, the screaming. I finally managed to get some antibiotic goop on it, wrapped it crudely in two bandages, and stuck a mitten over the whole thing. Now he's chewing on it contentedly. I've never said, "I'm sorry!" that many times in so short a period before.

Don't tell Mrs. Rodius. I'll tell her he got mauled by wild dogs, or something.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Not a bad father. Rite of passage. Trust me.

anne said...

Not bad parent behavior at all - human behavior.

One week after our firstborn was home from the hospital, I gave her a bath in the kitchen sink. When I wrapped her up in a big fluffy towel afterward, I slammed her little forehead into the corner of the cupboard next to the sink.

I know I cried more than she did.

Today, she is a healthy 9-year-old 4th grader, with no signs of brain damage.

You are doing just fine, Mr. R!

BadKitty said...

I believe we all have injured the little ones we hold most dear. This is just a small taste of the mortal anguish you will feel when you do something, anything, that causes them the slightest pain. Or even when you did not cause it, when it is inflicted from an outside source.

Welcome to parenthood, and the world of parental guilt!

I, Rodius said...

Thanks for the encouragement. He doesn't seem to have suffered any permanent trauma; he alternates between chewing on the mitten and trying to figure out how to pull it off. I'm sure I'll do much greater damage in the years to come. But, God, that sucked.

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