Every parent has a horror story.
My Mom has a particularly scary one.
When my brother was a baby, Mom was home in her 3rd floor apartment watching him and my infant sister. She took her eyes off my brother “for one second” and he crawled through some bars on the window and fell three stories to the ground.
Mom has told this story dozens of times and each time my eyes go wide and I hold my breath. Now hearing it as a parent, I think about something happening to my own son or daughter and just the thought of it can cause a sob to bubble up in my throat.
Last week I had an almost-horror story.
I was cooking dinner. George was running around like a maniac. Sam was watching him but Layla started crying so he bent down to pick her up. I was facing the stove and when I turned around to grab something off the island George was on his tip-toes, reaching with all his might as he grabbed hold of the handle on our kitchen knife.
This wasn’t just any knife. It was our sharpest knife. The one we received as a gift for our wedding. The kind of knife that when guests come over I want to show them our awesome knife because it’s that sharp and isn’t that so cool??
I let out a gasp/yell and grabbed the knife from his tiny hand.
Sam ran over with Layla in his arms. George looked from Sam to me as I bent over the island, nearly hyperventilating.
That could have been bad. I don’t like to think about it.
As my Mom sprinted down the three flights to my brother she didn’t hear any crying. When she found him, he was sitting on the ground, perfectly alert, and silent. She scooped him up and rushed to the hospital. The doctor inspected my brother. Not a scratch. Not a bruise. He was fine. A bush must have broken his fall.
I guess my mom’s horror story was actually an almost-horror story, too, because everything turned out okay.
Do you have any parent horror stories? Or almost-horror stories? I’d love to hear them.
I was accepted into the Writing Studio with Michael Dean!
For the next four weeks, Michael and I will meet weekly to work on an essay about pseudonymous writing. I’ll dive into the details of how writing as Charlie Bleecker has allowed me to write more authentically than I ever could have under my real identity.
Episode 10 is out!
My neighbors threw a Kentucky Derby (Frat) Party and it got me thinking about the old days (re: a few years ago) when I used to drink to “get over the hump.”
Until next week,