Reason #160 – I nearly killed my son

Reason #160 – I nearly killed my son

May 16

I nearly killed my son today.

A couple of hours ago, my en suite was the scene of a family gore film, what with C screaming/crying/loving the attention, the Dane asking me “what were you doing?”, frozen peas rolling on the floor and me wiping blood off from (in no particular order) C’s belly button, a bag of frozen peas, C’s nose, the bathroom floor, my cleavage*, the bathtub, C’s mouth, the bathroom vanity, C’s chest and my pillowcase with a wad of toilet paper.

All because I was putting anti-frizz cream on my hair.

I was just putting anti-frizz effing cream on my wet effing hair when C decided he was done with his bath and tried to climb out of the shower by himself. Here everything started happening in slow motion:

- I say “No, Booboo, that is dangerous, wait a second!” while rubbing the last of the cream on my hair ends

- I turn away from him to get his towel

- I grab the white towel, pull it from the towel bar, and hold it with both hands in the “ready to hug” position

- I hear a loud BONK

- I turn around and see the top of C’s head rising from the bathtub’s (sharp, metal) edge

- I hear the first “WaaaaAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!”

- I see my son’s face and chest covered in blood, which seem to be streaming from every orifice

- I swoop C out of the bath with the towel (following the usual procedure) and sit on the loo lid with him on my lap

- I grab a wad of TP and haphazardly dab at the blood trying to find out where exactly it is coming from

- The Dane pokes his head through the door

- I snap “Ice!” at him and keep dabbing

- ER report: mouth OK, chest OK, belly OK, blood seems to be coming from the nose, which does not appear to be broken

- Dane arrives with a bag of frozen peas. An OPEN bag of frozen peas.

- I gently apply bag to C’s face

- C stops crying

- C starts licking the bag

- C starts giggling

- C’s nose stops bleeding

- Collective phew

- C decides enough with me, and jumps ship to the Dane’s arms

- The Dane asks “What were you doing?”

- I do my best not to give HIM a bloody nose. C starts eating the frozen peas

- The Dane takes the now happy C to our bed, and takes advantage of the situation to score a major win in our marital war by letting my bloody-nosed child run amok on my pillow

- I step on a frozen pea that was lying in ambush on our bedroom carpet and swear like a sailor

As I type this, C is sleeping soundly with just a little crusted blood on his nostrils, the Dane is watching telly and I’m typing this in bed with a glass of white before playing some more Angry Birds. All’s well that ends well.

Here’s to the first of many many scary accidents. Cheers!

* I am doing it more than a favour by calling it “cleavage”, but at least you get the idea of where the blood was.