Our Scary Adventure

It all started when we needed to dry out our bathtub.

I'll jump to the punchline: No, we weren't killed by home invasion robbers!

We knew that our painter was coming to do some work on Tuesday and we wanted him to caulk a bathtub while he was here, so on Monday night John and I did not bathe in our normal tub. Instead we used the master shower. Everything was going along fine with John sitting on the floor of the shower, playing, until I heard him ask for help with a quiet questioning sound. I discovered that he had pushed his finger into one of the drain holes and it was decidedly stuck. I definitely did not help keep him calm because I began shouting loudly for Chris' help. John began crying, trying to pull out his finger.

I screamed for Chris to get us a screwdriver, thinking that we would unscrew the drain plate, then cover John's hand in vegetable oil, in hopes of lubricating his finger. If nothing else, we were off to the Emergency Room. While Chris was dashing into the garage for a screwdriver, I freed John's finger and he had only a circular scrape and some swelling.

We thought that all's well that ends well . . .

Later John and I were already in bed, John snoozing and my lying there with my normal insomnia. Chris was still up working in his office when we heard the beep-beep-beep! of a door opening. We have an alarm system, but it was not activated, so we would heard only the warning beep of any door opening.

Chris sneaked into our room to tell me that he was going to check things out and he wanted me to lock myself into the bedroom. I was overly calm, "knowing" that my husband would just take care of things and he certainly wouldn't be killed by a home invader. Had I been home alone with Chris gone on one of his many business trips, I'd have been nearly vomiting with fear!

Chris quietly checked things out, then crept back upstairs and whispered to me to call 911. Well, I did it fast! I don't think I've ever talked to a 911 operator. They are trained to ask what sound like some mighty funny questions, but they're not that strange when analyzed. Chris wanted to remain standing guard in the hallway and I stayed locked in the bedroom as the deputies arrived and checked the outside. Then the 911 operator told me to tell Chris to let the deputies in the front door. The officers came in and checked things out.

It turns out that in Chris' panic to get a screwdriver, he hadn't firmly shut the door between the kitchen and the garage. It looked shut, but in the middle of the night, the cold air finally pushed it open oh-so slowly, thus setting off the beep-beep-beep! of the alarm. What a relief! And to think that it all started because we needed to dry out some caulk! If nothing else, it was a great dry run in case of emergency and showed me how calmly I depend on Chris to protect us.

*****

John in his new upside down table fort:
Last night Chris and I had for dessert homemade lemon crunch cake with a squirt of canned whipped cream. Chris shared some of his with John; I didn't see how much, but it was a minuscule amount of whipped cream. Apparently our baby got a taste for it and began acting a bit like a crack addict! He took Chris' empty plate and carried it back and forth between us, grunting loudly for more. We kept saying no, so he began licking the plate of the remnant of whipped cream!

Check out the red rimmed eyes of the tired baby, all hopped up on whipped cream: