The Boy and I were playing a game this morning and he stopped and ran upstairs.
This usually means he needs to grab a little box of raisins or an angry bird or both.
Not long after he went upstairs I hear "that cry".
Now I do not like to generalize I do not like it when people say "oh you will understand when your a mother". For the most part humans are perfectly capable of empathizing with children no mater if you have birthed one. But Mom's DO have the ability to pick up the tone of certain cries that stop their hearts and send them running straight into a fire without conscious thought.
Apparently The Boy was attempting to liberate the marbles from the game and thought using a giant knife was the way to do it.
Just two little cuts (that bled allot) he is just fine.
The knifes are so high now I can barely reach them.
Which is fine cause just looking at them make me want to throw-up right now.
*silver lining* This event gave me such an adrenaline surge I deep cleaned the entire kitchen. The cupboards, drawers, under the stove and fridge are all shinning now.
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