Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Mason slipped four popcorn kernels up his nose on Sunday night. Yes, that's a nice place to begin. Four. Two in each nostril. They popped out pretty easily and I suspect I wouldn't have been in such a panic if he would have just held still long enough to see up his nose.
And that is where I hoped this story would end. This morning he woke up but couldn't open his eyes. His long lashes were shellacked in green goo. And so, I returned to the doctor. (Seriously, 1 month. I just want to make it 1 month with out going to the doctor.)
Turns out that while we were able to get all the kernels out, the oils, salt, and what-have-you that makes microwave popcorn taste so wonderful is a bit of an irritant. His little tear ducts became little pressure valves of scum. Not a biggie, not contagious conjunctivitis or anything like that, but pretty hideous.
When I took him to the park today I literally noticed mothers steering their kids away from him. So, we took flight and walked down by the pond and fed the geese our left-over snacks. In case you're wondering, Canadian Geese really like Scottish Shortbread.
PS -- In other funny kid-isms. I visited with a client today who has asked me to sew some draperies for the room where her parrots live. She also has an Indiana Jones pinball machine and she let the boys play it while we were measuring her windows. When we left, Mason waved to her and said, "Thanks me playing Indiana Jones buttons."