JANUARY My first time ever out-of-town without my Cracker, J gets this call. The Cracker has stuck a pencil up his nose. J wants to know "How do I get a surprising amount of blood out of a school uniform shirt?"
FEBRUARY Reminder that plastic tools = real damage. The Cracker dismantles the whatchamacallit that encloses the gas shut-off for the living room fireplace. How he managed to unscrew a hollow male shaped part that is flush with the wall with pliers and then pry off the caulked-on plate in less than 5 minutes is still beyond me.
MARCH Off apparently. Or more likely blocked out.
APRIL School nurse calls. "You need to take him to get x-rayed." He tripped over his own (big ol' puppy) feet while walking in a single file line to lunch and his a finger is very swollen, very discolored, and no longer bendy. Oy. Dx = "Minorly sprained, badly bruised."
MAY Instead of brushing his teeth, the Cracker takes an oral syringe, fills it with water, and injects it into the bathroom electrical outlet. I hear there were alarms, crying, smoke, and water sizzling in the wall and shooting out of the outlet. (cough I-was-at-Target.)
At the bus stop this morning my question for the more seasoned mothers was "When will common sense and knowing-the-fuck-better finally prevail?"
"It doesn't. And then you hand over your car keys."
Insurance, people. Medical, dental, home, and auto. Make sure you have great insurance.