When my twins were 13 months old, my daughter, Miss A, was 3. My husband and I were both working full time, and we’d worked out an arrangement where he kept the children at home until 1, then brought them to my office. We’d switch cars and he would head to work, and I’d go home with the kids.
After a long and stressful day, full of crying and minor injuries and pants-wetting and whatnot, the kids and I finished dinner. Or rather, Miss A and I finished dinner, and the twins were removed from their high chairs so they could happily eat the veggie rotini they’d hurled to the floor during our meal. While I was doing the dishes I heard a crash, and discovered that the kids had pulled down the dining room curtains, ripping the hardware clean out of the wall. Taking deep, calming breaths, I went back to doing the dishes/wrestling the twins out of the garbage and dishwasher.
Then, Miss A asked to do a craft. Because the dishes weren’t going well and I felt bad for being annoyed, I set her up with a foamie wall hanging kit. She did a great job with it, but took it upon herself to snip the hanging ribbon in two. While she looked for one of her hair ribbons to replace it, I went back to rinsing chunks of curdled milk out of a thousand sippy cups.
Moments later, I heard the slap-slap-slapping of the twins’ feet coming at me, and that’s where this story gets disturbing. We were in the midst of moving the kids’ rooms upstairs, and our room and the office downstairs. Apparently, Miss A had momentarily forgotten about the move and opened the wrong door. The boys followed her and came upon the contents of my nightstand in an open box on the floor.
I heard their sweet little feet on the floor and turned around to smile at them, and I was met with the horrific sight of my sweet, precious, innocent, perfect firstborn son toddling out to the kitchen with my nearly-empty bottle of personal lubricant in his mouth.
[Epilogue: Astroglide is safe to ingest in very small amounts.]
Jen is the married work-from-home mother of 7-year-old Miss A, 5-year-old identical boys G and P, and 3-year-old Haney Jane. She also blogs at Diagnosis: Urine.