Saturday, July 15, 2006

it's not a pirhana!

So, after he has been asleep for an hour or so, we hear David crying in his bedroom. We both go up to tend to him. The crying doesn't seem very concerning. It is a regular slow "wah" that I usually associate with simply being upset. I attempt gather from him what the problem is but he won't answer and I assume that he is still asleep. I feel around to verify that he has a pacifier handy. There is one in his hand--fine. Then I notice that the sheets are wet. So, I give him to Jaime who sits and rocks with him while I changed his sheets. He continues to cry, and she tries to console him without success. Then, she exclaims and calls me to the rocking chair. I look to see what's up and she is holding up his hand.

He had not been holding a bink. The bink was holding him. Somehow a savage, flesh-eating bink had gotten into bed and was had consumed about 3/4ths of his indexed finger. Jaime could not get it off. So, she held his hand, I held the bink, and we pulled. David bellowed. The bink released its vise-like hold and came off. I stomped on it and tossed in a jar of formaldehyde that David was preserving a miniature T-Rex in. He seemed relieved and didn't cry anymore. The finger was saved.

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