The One in Which I Make You Feel Like the Best Parent Ever
By Glinda
I’m only telling you this because we are such good friends. And also because if you think Child Services should be called, you don’t know where I live.
I was on the phone with my mother when I noticed the Munchkinette sidling up to the front of the Christmas tree. Now this puts her between the tree and the middle front window, so between being on the phone and a dicey sightline, I don’t see what happens next. Until, of course, it’s too late.
And what happens next is that I see her proudly holding a glass Christmas ornament in her little hand.
I give out yell because I’m thinking she’s going to drop it. I begin running toward her. Er, well, probably lurching is a better term for it.
She does me one better.
In one of those slo-mo effects in the movies, I watch as she crushes the ornament in her hand.
At this point, I let out a full blown scream because I’m envisioning myself in the ER with her thrashing around as they stitch up the million cuts in her hand. Also, I’m a little pissed because it’s one of the intricate ones handed down to me from the 1950’s and I’m wondering why she couldn’t have chosen a regular old ball.
So I’m continuing the lurch and watching what seems like hundreds of little glass pieces scatter around her, which I finally crunch through and grab her.
I frantically seize her tiny hand, fully expecting shards to be stuck in it and blood dripping down her arm.
Nothing. Not a scratch.
No aftermath of any kind except for me losing a very cool ornament and having to thoroughly vacuum.
We’re thinking of having her pick out our lottery numbers.
December 16th, 2010 at 9:38 am
My husband did this when he was about three years old! He claims his rationale was, “If he couldn’t have the ornament, NO ONE could have the ornament!” So he crushed it in his hand. 30 years later, he still has one hell of a scar on his left middle finger from the ordeal. It’s a good story though!
December 20th, 2010 at 3:35 am
It’s a great story! 🙂
December 16th, 2010 at 4:07 pm
I am glad that she is ok! We just stopped bringing out any ornaments we even remotely cared about being broken. Keeping constant watch on the tree was impossible. We don’t even have lights with glass any more after they decided breaking them was fun.
December 20th, 2010 at 3:36 am
I REFUSE to be beaten by a one year old, Awesome Mom! Do you hear me, REFUSE! 😉
December 16th, 2010 at 6:37 pm
Glad she’s ok. Just for future reference, they usually sedate small children in need of stitches to prevent the thrashing. I speak from experience. Also, when my youngest was about 18 mos old, his father and brother went down the street to buy donuts. Youngest is upset that he doesn’t get to go, so he opens the front door (who knew he could do that?) and is half way down the driveway before I discover he is missing. Terrifying, but ultimately a good story to make you feel a little better.
December 20th, 2010 at 3:37 am
Good to know, although I’m sorry you know from experience. 🙁
And you are right, that must have almost given you a heart attack!
December 17th, 2010 at 11:47 am
If you look carefully at the image you posted with this entry, you might notice the little metal “caps” that are inserted in the tops of the glass ornament balls so that you can attach the Christmas tree hooks.
I found four extracted “caps” plus hooks, along with four glass ornaments, scattered around the base of our tree (which is 3 ft, artificial) that I had placed ON TOP OF A TABLE AGAINST A WALL to keep it out of reach of the toddler.
I didn’t even know she could reach the tree, much less did I realize she was busy disassembling the glass ornaments while I was doing dishes.
Happily nothing was broken or ingested. But I share your angst!
December 20th, 2010 at 3:37 am
It is amazing what they can do, isn’t it?
December 21st, 2010 at 7:47 pm
My parents had a very firm policy of no breakable ornaments on the bottom three feet of the tree for the first several years of my life. I still managed to break a glass ornament or two that I recall, but no major battle wounds.
December 22nd, 2010 at 2:37 am
Your parents are wise people whose example I am going to have to follow, unfortunately.