It was just another typical Friday evening. I returned home from work to find my husband, a stay-at-home dad, looking utterly worn out after a long day of wrangling our lively 2-year-old. Once I unloaded the groceries from my car, he declared he was officially clocking out for a much-needed nap.
Being the supermom I am, I had already anticipated this scenario and picked up a rotisserie chicken from Costco, regardless of his constant reminders that they aren’t organic. But hey, tonight we feast on hormone-laden chicken!
As I served up the meal in my comfy Wonder Woman pajama pants, my son eagerly devoured his Costco chicken, croissant, and organic Fuji apple. Meanwhile, I couldn’t ignore the clutter piling up on the kitchen table. Oh look, the picture frames I ordered for his school photos had arrived! I decided to multitask like a pro and put the photos in the frames while he finished his dinner. This totally compensates for the chemical-laden chicken, right?
With my husband snoozing in the other room and my son shoveling food into his mouth, I suddenly felt that urgent need to pee — and fast! I moved my son’s food out of reach and asked him to finish what was in his mouth to prevent any choking incidents while I dashed to the bathroom. I used the term “potty” without shame.
I was gone for less than two minutes — just enough time for a quick pit stop and a hand wash. When I returned, I was greeted by the sight of my sweet toddler, surrounded by the remnants of the picture frame boxes. Somehow, he had managed to get his hands on them.
He was holding out something to me, and I initially thought it was just a piece of cardboard. As I bent down to take it from him, he cheerfully said, “I ate it.” That’s when I noticed he was holding one of those pesky silica gel desiccant packets labeled “DO NOT EAT.”
In a panic, I snatched it from his tiny fingers and checked for any moisture to see if it had been in his mouth. To my relief, it was dry and intact. I asked him if he had put it in his mouth, and he confidently replied, “Yes, I ate it.” Then I spotted the empty packet, corner chewed off and glistening with his saliva, with a few of the little beads rolling around on the table.
In that moment, my body went into full crisis mode. I screamed for my husband and started searching my son’s mouth for those tiny beads. I yelled again for my husband, who, due to wearing earplugs, didn’t wake up until I burst into the room, flipped on the lights, and urged him to get up immediately. I tossed our little mischief-maker onto the bed and explained what had just unfolded.
As I frantically searched for my phone, I realized it was missing. I quickly dashed back to the bedroom to grab my husband’s phone, grateful for his preparedness as Poison Control was already saved in his contacts.
To my surprise, the call was answered almost immediately. A calm and professional voice greeted me: “Poison Control.” I blurted out, “My toddler ate the silica gel desiccant package.” Inside, I was mentally planning my exit strategy from the Wonder Woman pajama pants I felt I didn’t deserve anymore, ready to rush him to the children’s hospital.
The woman reassured me, “This is probably our most common call. He’s fine, I promise.” She explained that the warning on the packet is there because it poses a choking hazard, but the beads are harmless as long as he was breathing and not in distress. After taking some statistical info, she ended the call.
My husband had walked in by then and could see from my expression that everything was okay. I relayed the information to him, then placed his phone on the counter and broke down into a full-on ugly cry, complete with snot dripping down my face — definitely not a moment worthy of my Wonder Woman attire.
To make matters worse, I noticed my little one had started picking the beads off the floor and was, in fact, eating them. We quickly cleared his mouth and took him out of the room while we cleaned up the mess, and I couldn’t help but cry some more. He could have died. He could have died. If it were poison, he could have died.
My husband pulled me aside to comfort me. “He was never in any danger. He’s fine. I’m going to put the laundry in the dryer. Try not to kill him while I’m gone.”
Just another Friday night, right? When I think back on it, I realize I’ve navigated through so many similar situations, and so has my son. Maybe I am worthy of those Wonder Woman pajamas after all.
But honestly, screw those silica gel packets.
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Summary
This cautionary tale illustrates the chaos of parenting and the unexpected dangers, like silica gel packets. Despite the panic and tears, it reinforces the resilience of both parents and children, and the importance of staying calm in a crisis.