Ah, a lull in the late afternoon....I should probably be making dinner, but no, I am going to sit down at the computer and play a mind numbing round of spider solitaire. Some time passes. It is quiet...too quiet. Dangerous conditions in the house with a two year old. I start looking.
"Red, where is your brother?"
Blank stare.
I ran all over the house looking for him. Nothing. Finally, with the panic rising in my throat I burst into my bedroom calling his name
There he is, with a bottle of children's Tylenol smeared on his face, his clothes, my sheets.
He smiles up at me with a big, proud grin. "Yummy medicine. Yummy yummy yummy!!!"
I grab the bottle from him. Half empty. CRAP! I quickly dial my mother...as if she has some magical powers...which I still kind of believe. She of course instructs me to call poison control.
Poison control. Again. For the 3rd time this year. My fingers hesitate before dialing the button...can they find out who I am a take these kids from me because I canNOT keep dangerous things out of their mouth???
When I get through, Stinky is in full blown hyper mode. He is jumping wildly on my bed.
"I love medicine! Love it! Yummy yummy in my tummy! MMMMM....GOOOOD MORE MORE MEDICINE!!"
I relax as the woman on the other line calculates his weight and the amount of Tylenol consumed and reports that all is well. To expect him to be somewhat sleepy, maybe a tummy ache.
As I hang up the phone I just stare a while and watch the little boy stip naked and starts spinning on the bed maniacally, as if he were the Tazmanian Devil.
"Give me medicine! Yummy yummy yummy...I drink it drink it drink it. Naughty boy! Naughty boy! Bad bad bad. Yummy yummy yummy. Give me more!!!!"
And for just a split second I wonder...if I gave him the OTHER half of the bottle would THAT really knock him out?
Bad bad mommy. Naughty naughty.
