The Little Shard That Could

...or "What Won't I Do to Keep Rob Home from Mutual?"

Once upon a time, a small girl named Amy discovered the joys of rooting around in the kitchen cupboards. Her parents saw no real harm in this, so tolerated the behavior, even though it meant frequently tripping over bowls and pot lids.


After one particularly boisterous round of Amy's bowl bashing, Amy's mom smiled at the the little girl and lifted her up to put her in her chair for lunch. During the course of lunch, the young mother patiently put away all of the bowls and pot lids again.

After lunch, Amy was put so sweetly in her crib for a nap, and the mother turned her attention back to Amy's two older brothers and the chore of cleaning up the kitchen. The kitchen was famous for its perpetually messy floors. This was not due to any shortcomings on the part of the mother; it was the natural consequence of having three children aged 5 and under. The mother was very much accustomed to stepping on various cruddies, (no matter how often she swept) and would wipe them off on the top of the other foot without a second thought.

On this particular day, however, Amy had been particularly boisterous in her cupboard play. Unbeknownst to the poor young mother, a 2-inch long glass shard had been blissfully bashed from the rim of one of the bowls by a well-placed whack. When the mother stepped on the shard with her bare left foot, she thought "That's a pretty sharp cruddy," right before she tried wiping it off on the top of her bare right foot.

Ergh.

The left foot actually drove the shard over an inch deep into the top of the right foot in what can only be described as "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!"

Again, without thinking, the mother pulled the shard from her foot and was amazed at the length and that she had managed to drive it in that deep before realizing the problem. The amount of blood that came from the wounds of both feet was ... copious.

The two brothers were quite helpful, locating the hydrogen peroxide after only two failed attempts (they first brought lotion and then aftershave, neither of which would have helped much). They enjoyed very much the blood all over the kitchen floor. They even brought two band-aids to their pale mother and helped her limp over to the couch, where she tried to elevate her feet to stop the bleeding.

There ends the interesting parts of the story. No infection was forthcoming, the doctor's visit was inevitable, the tetanus shot was avoided because of the mother's pregnancy, and the husband stayed home from his church meetings that evening so he could help his gimpy wife. Now the mother walks with a limp and a wary eye on the ground before her.

She even took a picture of the shard, lest some think the story exaggerated. Pardon the redness on the shard----it wasn't red to begin with.

Kansas Critters

We found something in the backyard last week while Rob was planting our new trees. Rob and I had dismissed it as a lump of dirt---it was just sitting there, crouched down as low as it could go, possibly cowering in fear and trying to disappear. Kevin saw it for what it really was---a baby bunny! We weren't impressed nor deterred by its clandestine efforts, and so Rob picked it up with a little rake and stuck it in a big Rubbermaid tote. The kids had a blast. Sorry I can't really say the same for li'l Bun.

Ever since living in Germany, I have a slight fear of bunnies. (I seem to harbor a slight fear of anything that is small and moves.) Where we lived there, a healthy population of bunnies abounded, and we learned to watch where we were running to avoid the piles of bunny pellets. Every few years some people would come around and spread disease for the bunnies, to keep the population down. So we would be outside playing and would often discover, to our delight, baby bunnies! Then, to our indignant horror, we would notice the puffy white eyes and shuddering little bodies and realize that to touch the bunnies might mean instant death.

So I forbade the children to touch this bunny, claiming that if they did, their mother would disown it. I think that only applies to birds, but you can't be too careful. Amy, however, didn't heed my warning, but she seems no worse off for her truancy. We've seen no trace of that bunny since, but hope that it is alive and well somewhere, not disowned by its mother.


Also, frog season has started, along with all the frog piddle you can handle. Ewww.


And, in conclusion, let me add a picture Rob took of our most recent thunderstorm, the storm that cancelled the Priesthood commemoration campout and nearly broke my sons' hearts until we compromised on camping in the basement.

On second thought, that picture is rather boring to look at. So instead I'll attach a picture of Kevin with paint in his eyebrow. It is ever so much more amusing than clouds.