1.800.222.1222

That’s the number I dialed. If you know that number, you know what happened at our house today.


(photo taken post-incident)

T3 and I were in the playroom. I was eating what was left of my cold soup. T3 threw his ball behind my back and ran after it. I took a few more bites and turned my head to see what he was doing.

He had opened the door to the guest room and gotten the Bissell Tough Stain Precleaner squirt bottle, which I had so unwisely left out and hadn’t turned the nozzle to the “off” position. (I had left all that stuff upstairs last night ‘cause I was planning to steam clean again tonight…I won’t be lazy like that AGAIN!) I’m not sure how much he got in his mouth. I just know that in the few seconds it took me to eat those few bites, little man got the squirt bottle and had some fun. He had cleaner on his chin and a little on his shirt. When he saw me see him doing what he was doing, he erupted in giggles and squirted his shirt AGAIN…I wiped his chin and couldn’t tell if his breath actually smelled like the cleaner, or if it was just his chin…

So, for the first time ever, I called the Poison Control Center. Mrs. PCC was efficient. On our first go round on the phone she made me feel like an incompetent mother when she said, “so then you were not in the room with him…” I wanted to say, “yes, I was in the room with him. He walked behind me and I don’t have eyes in the back of my head and I neglected to turn around for a few seconds. I DID call you. I DIDN’T wait to see what would happen. And – in four and a half years of children I’ve never called before.” I felt a jarring range of defensive emotions pop up. But instead I just said, “yes, I was in the room with him. I had my back to him for a few seconds.’

So she said she’d call back in ten minutes once she’d checked on everything. While I waited for her to call back I was to strip him of the offended clothing and wash the affected skin with soap and water twice. I was also told to give him clear liquids and get him drinking and not let him go to sleep.

Check. Did it all.

Ten minutes later, he was running around like crazy, attempting to throw MW’s grocery cart over the gate at the top of the stairs. Little man was 100% himself and had downed nearly an entire sippie cup of juice. I think he’s going to be just fine. When we spoke the second time, Mrs. PCC was very kind and encouraging and I didn’t feel nearly as “moron-ic” as I had before. She said aside from some possible GI issues, he should be just fine.

They’re calling back to check on him in an hour.

Whew…Thank You Lord!



MW asked me to do a "quiet time" with her this morning. When I walked in the den, pictured below is what I found. Hee, hee!