You were no doubt thinking that things were a little too quiet around here, medically speaking.
Well, you probably weren't, but now that I brought it up it has occurred to you that no one has made a trip to the ER in a while.
We almost set the "25 days accident-free" calendar back yesterday when Jesso decided to spice things up a bit.
Taking a cue from her older sister who stuck a red hot up her nose a couple of years ago and sneezed cinnamon for a few days afterward, Jess stuck a plastic bead up there.
Running over a little teary, she said, "Ma, Ma...nose." I couldn't see anything at first, but with a shine of the flashlight saw the little white bead perched high up into her nasal cavity. (And if that didn't clue me in, the evidence was in a craft bag opened up on my desk where she was sitting.)
I tried to work it out, yes, that way, but her nostrils are too small and my fingers too big. I thought maybe I could grab it with a pair of tweezers, but she was thrashing around too much and I thought I might pluck her cerebellum. So I let out a huge heaving sigh, and packed everyone up to go to the ER.
Actually, I had to pick up a couple from down the road so that they could watch the other 2 while I went holding just one crying baby instead of four. I made the exchange and carried on the way.
At the traffic light, I was considering ER, pediatrician's office or StatMed--each of which have their own appeal--when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a little band of white perched close to the end of her nostril. I calmly pulled over to a parking lot (proud that I didn't just turn backwards while holding my foot on the brake like I normally do, aren't you?) and worked my mommy magic on that bead, so it came out in a rather disgustingly-coated nugget in my trembling hand.
And you know what that little cherub said?
"Tanks Ma for helping my nose."
No, thank you Jess, for saving me a $50 co-pay and another entry in the bad mommy file.