A Tale of Two Mommies

…because more seems excessive…


Tending to the perpetual needs and whims of a toddler I learned to derive pleasure from the small things that remind me that I am an adult capable of thinking beyond the dubious smell starting to linger in a room.  John Oliver is such a diversion, and a hilarious one at that.  Not only can I watch him and pride myself on my vague awareness of most the issues he discusses (Perhaps motherhood hasn’t completely fried my brain…), I can also reliably elicit hearty belly chuckles whenever I have the urge.

Such was the case one fine mid morning.  I remember it well.  It was a pleasant enough day.  I managed to both exercise and shower without incident before Little Man awakened from his first nap of the day.  While he played independently, I decided to eat my breakfast while enjoying an episode critiquing the judicial system.  It was five minutes into my shaking cackles when I heard a noise from the kitchen I could not quite place.  Sauntering into the other room I look before me noting that despite the brilliance of John Oliver, it probably isn’t acceptable to have your toddler playing with knives from the dishwasher he apparently can open.  I wonder which development benchmark that particular skill meets…

To be specific, my son was wielding a butter knife in one hand and a steak knife in the other; it couldn’t be a spatula or spoon.  Unsure if the proper reaction I should exhibit…should it be a visible freak-out of religious zealot proportions?  Should I approach like one would a potentially rabid dog?  I opted for brisk, calm walk while my son giggled, baring all teeth in absolute delight.  Fortunately he did not lose a digit, obliviously unscathed from the incident.  Clearly I can add this experience to my notches of parenting excellence…


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