We've been having adventures around here, lately. And Zeke has been getting into everything. Especially in the kitchen. Evidence: below. Zeke taking one of his bowls out of the drawer.
And yesterday Zeke decided to mix his love of getting into things with the new adventure theme and scare Mommy half to death while he was at it.
So here I was yesterday morning, waiting for some friends to come over for a playdate and working while I waited on my secret project. Which isn't nearly as secret as it used to be. And isn't being finished nearly as quickly as I thought it would, either. Apparently programming teams are rather useless. Never hire a programmer to do a web-designers job. But don't worry. I found one of those, or rather Kait was smart enough to think ahead and marry one a while back. Good job Kait. And its ok, everyone, it WILL be finished. Give me another week. Maybe two. And then there will be the big reveal.
But anyways, I was minding my own business is the point. Something that actually isn't allowed when you have a 7 month old son.
Because guess what Zeke was doing? Climbing my pantry. And pulling down an empty Mason jar. And smashing it. And cutting himself.
And obviously I heard the crash of broken glass, and then heard the scream, and ran toward my son. But it's equally obvious that by the time I reached him it was too late. There was blood everywhere, let me tell you. And even though I ascertained right away that it was a small cut on his finger and that there was no glass stuck in there, it was deep! It took a good 20-30 minutes for me to get it to stop bleeding. Long after Zeke had gotten over the pain and shock of his very first cut and decided he would rather play than have his finger held, it was still pouring blood. Which of course made it really easy to make him stay on my lap so I could keep pressure on his cut.
Finally it did slow down enough for me to put a band-aid on it, however. And Zeke went on his merry way while I swept up the glass and changed my shirt. Which was white. And is now ruined.
Time to re-baby-proof.