Monday, 8 February 2010

It's Always the Quiet Ones

Me: Where is the toddler?

HWASF (Husband with a Sad Face): Here's right here, next to me.

Me: Really?

HWASF: Errr yes, look!

Me: But he's not moving or making any noise.

HWASF: No, he's quite happy playing with the railway.

Me: But he's not moving or making any noise.....

HWASF: He's concentrating.

Me: Are you 'sure' he's alright?


(He's sitting very very very still staring into the middle distance. He's either mastered the art of transcendental meditation or he's been turned to stone. Possibly for crimes against women wearing red felt).


(At this point the toddler starts to snort, rather like a bull about to charge).

I sense something may be up.

I approach him.

His hands fall open to reveal a collection of beads (beads which I have never seen before and had no idea we owned).


I grab toddler and tip back his head so the light is shining up his nose.

Yup. There is a long cylindrical bead wedged nicely right up his left nasal passage.

'Fine' my arse.

TWEEZERS! I yell before moving him to the strip-lit kitchen floor.

Give me space to work! SHARPER TWEEZERS!

At this point Original Son has arrived to take in the drama. What with him being 'Mr Health & Safety' crimes against one's own body intrigue him.


A brief struggle and a lot of breath holding later the bead was removed.

At this point all hell breaks loose:


Me: What do you mean NO?

Original Son: But I want to take him to the hospital. PLLLLEEEASSSSSEEEE.

Me: He's fine now, he doesn't need to go and we are very lucky that's the case.

Original Son: Can we take him anyway?

Me: No, you are very lucky we don't need to go to the hospital (here followed a sermon on the potential outcomes of nasal bead stuffing and the horrors of waiting in casualty).

Original Son: But I just want to take him now. I love hospitals, especially in the dark. I haven't been for AGES. PLLEEEEEASEEE.

Me: No, it's bed time (whilst thinking, my god, what have I done to my child? His fondest memories of his early years are clearly cemented around visiting me in hospital. Psychiatric Care has never looked so fun. Sod Lego Land - this child dreams of Nuclear Power Stations, Diesel Engine Depots and......Mental Health Units).

They go to bed but I'm left with uneasy sense that Original Son may try sprinkling small objects into the toddlers cot in the hope of a repeat performance.


  1. yeah, but apart from that, how was your weekend??

    A mother's instinct is a wonderful thing, though. With all due respect to HWASF, thank God you were there...

    We had Twin 1 losing a tooth this weekend, Twin 2 (the competitive one) NOT losing a tooth this weekend. I fully expect to find 50 p from tooth fairy stuffed up Twin 1's nose before you can say 'jealousy? Pah!'

  2. Oops! Just as well you were there - men eh?!!
    Sue xx

  3. I used to habitually wedge small dice up my nose and had to have them removed by either local doctor or (eventually) nervous mother using the tweezers my dad used to use for sticking his airfix planes together with. I was always told it was attention seeking. I was merely bored and liked to see if it would fit.

  4. My DS2 is the same age as yours. He just asked me what I was laughing at. I daren't tell him. He'd only see it as a challenge.

  5. Aaah, brings back lots of memories - like husband commenting that 90% of the kids' accidents happened when I was looking after them. Considering I looked after them 99% of the time, I thought he should be more worried about 10% of the accidents happening when he was looking after them.

    Mind you, I also exploited them ruthlessly. I sold a script entitled 'A Visit to Casualty' to a BBC radio schools programme after youngest son stuck a piece of cotton wool up his nose - one incident in a long line of casualty visits!

    Love your blog, it always makes me laugh (and usually brings back memories.)

    Just wait till your little darlings reach their teens!

  6. Sky Blue - LOL! Yes this posting seems to have sparked a lot of memories from people. So far I've had people reminiscing about everything up their nose from a Sindy shoe to an apple core (with rogue pips) and (best of all) an entire box of Sunmaid Raisins - all carefully packed up the nostrils until the child in question could no longer inhale..... As you were saying, the teenage years of this blog could look interesting!!!

    Debs - how funny - do you know what tweezers I used to get it out with the!? The special long sharp ones my husband uses to make Airfix kits with!! I always knew there must be a point to that hobby ;).

  7. How funny! I have this very afternoon returned from A&E with little girl after she decided to put a miniature doll's shoe from a Disney Princess playset up her nose to see what happened. It was duly tweezed out by a very patient nurse and said child is now back home scoffing spaghetti as though it never happened. Mummy's nerves on the other hand may take longer to recover. I feel your pain! :)

  8. I love the way you tell the stories!!!!!!!