Mommy Needs a Cocktail

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Maybe he didn't like the way I made his eggs that morning

This entry was posted on 6/6/2006 8:25 PM and is filed under safety is optional.

D: You need to watch The Boy now. He can reach the counter.

Yeah, whatever.

So I'm on the phone in the living room the other day and suddenly I feel like I am being stabbed. Because I was.

There was The Boy. Stabbing me in the leg with a paring knife. And giggling. Thank God it was a cheap-ass IKEA knife. I sure am eating my words now about all those times I complained that the damn thing couldn't cut a slice of Wonder Bread.

D: So where did he get you?
K: Disturbingly, his rapid motions were aimed at my femoral artery. If he had been successful, it would have taken a tourniquet and I probably would have bled out anyway by the time we got to the hospital. And he isn't even remotely remorseful. I'm his mother who adores him. And what do I get? A stabbing?
D: A future felon?

I waited for it.........................................................

D: I told you he could reach the counter.

Yes you did.

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6/6/2006 9:21 PM amy wrote:
What scares me about this is that I read in a book over the weekend that Lorenna Bobbit cut off her husband's penis with a knife from IKEA. So basically IKEA knives can remove genitalia but not necessarily pierce through femoral arteries.

Don't you just HATE when they get to say "I told you so?" Ugh!
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