This time, mischievous four year old Jackson climbed onto the kitchen sink to get a pair of scissors from the cabinet. I put the scissors in that cabinet because it’s so high. Guess I need to find a new spot.
Anyway, he was climbing to get the scissors to cut open the ice pop he had sneaked from the freezer. While reaching for the scissors, he was distracted by the bottle of multi-colored fruity-flavored TUMS. The tropical TUMS that have the easy-to-open flip-top cap.
Quickly forgetting about the scissors and the contraband ice pop, Jackson grabbed the bottle of TUMS. Knowing it was medicine, he helped himself to a handful of the fruity-flavored tablets. Then, in a rare moment of magnanimity, Jackson gave a large handful of the medicine to two year old Griffin.
As Silas came into the kitchen to snag another ice pop from the freezer, he caught Jackson feeding the fruity TUMS to Griffin. That’s when I heard the screams. I had checked email and then gone to the bathroom. From the bathroom, I heard Silas’ urgent cries, “Mommmmmmaaaaa! Jackson gave medicine to Griffin! Come fast! Mommmmaaaaaa!!!!”
With an otherworldly calm, I was able to find Jackson, who had disappeared behind the recliner, and convince him to bring the “colorful medicine,” which he had thrown into the boys’ bathroom. With an otherworldly strength, I was able to pry the remaining five pastel TUMS from Griffin’s tight grasp.
Humbly, I called Poison Control and spoke with a woman who was most likely trained to make parents feel completely neglectful and incompetent. One of her questions was, “And where did they get the TUMS?” I didn’t say, “The TUMS were right beside the Tylenol and Kaopectate. He grabbed the TUMS on his way to getting the sharp scissors. But he didn’t drink any glue or sniff the Sharpies.” I did say, rather defensively, “They were in a very high cabinet that I didn’t know he could climb to, but I will find a new place for them.”
After taking down all of our information — our names, our phone number, the boys’ weight and ages — the woman actually told me that they should be OK this one time, but if they consumed that many TUMS every day for a few days in a row, they would get really sick. Ummm . . . OK. I guess that was a suggestion to not leave the TUMS lying on the dining room table or serve them by the bowlful as dessert. Instead of the hundred different smart retorts running through my brain, I simply thanked the Poison Control lady and hung up.
You know, I don’t remember the last time I was bored.