My name is Ann

For those of you who were sucking your teeth and wondering when karma was going to turn round and bite me on the bum (I was one of them)… you didn’t have a long wait. Except Karma evidently has lousy aim, and hit an innocent bystander instead. Twice.

Firstly, she tripped Harry up as he climbed up onto our bed this morning, which wouldn’t have been so bad except he was, foolishly, holding his toothbrush between his teeth as he did so. There were copious tears and even a little blood, although he typically refused to let me look in his mouth, pushing me firmly away after his crying had ended. He probably thought I was attracting the lightning.

He wasn’t wrong. I came downstairs with a now-cheerful-again little follower, and left him, as usual, on the lowest landing, two steps above the ground. If you stay to watch his descent he showboats shamelessly; left to himself he is a reliable descender of stairs. He does, however, occasionally find the swinging properties of the open stairgate too much to resist.

Well, karma missed me again, the stupid bitch. I had got as far as the tumble dryer and was ferreting for my gym kit – a prime opportunity to electrocute or wallop me completely passed over – when there was a heavy thump, a roar, a chin graze and an alarming amount of blood in his mouth. Pretty soon the screams were at fever pitch and the blood had spread itself about my shoulders and industrial sports bra – thinly, but a lonnnng way.

Poor, unhappy boy. He’s cried himself to sleep in my arms, and is now lay on the sofa in uneasy rest, sporting a lip like a bratwurst. I daren’t wipe any more blood off in case I hurt him. I’m dreading him waking up, too, because misery is inevitable. He’s gonna be scary-mean.

poorly boy

My sad little man. He’s obviously thumped his chin hard, and sent his top teeth sinking deep into his lower lip.

bust lip

*readers recoil squealing in horror*

As if ramming a toothbrush half way to tummy-land AND having itchy eczema around his mouth weren’t enough for one morning. Karma can bite me. Accurately, please.

I am off to perch nervously on the sofa and see if I can load (‘insert’ sounds so… descriptive…) a paracetamol suppository without him waking. He shouldn’t have to suffer for his mother’s sins, poor lad.

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9 Responses

  1. Oh the poor little mite. And it’s nothing to do with karma.

  2. Oh, poor thing! I hope the tylenol works! Bless his little heart! I’m just glad he didn’t break any teeth. What an icky way to start a morning.

  3. Oh! Ouch! Poor Harry. But, I suppose you’d better get more used to that sort of thing – and not because of karma either. He’s a little boy (and, apparently, an ACTIVE little boy) and is bound to experience more of this as he grows.

    And, having put my teeth almost all the way through my lower lip (what do you call that part that’s below the actual lip, but above the chin/jawbone?) and having had to get stitches there, I can tell you first, that it’s a good thing he just has tiny little baby teeth. Second, popsicles and ice cream make everything better.

  4. I expect any mother of a boy about that age (past or present) can wince, grimace, and nod knowingly. My son fell down several wooden steps and got this awful and disgusting blood blister on his lip that hung around for a week or so. I think the only reason he didn’t have more tooth damage is he didn’t have a lot of teeth at the time. Poor Harry, and, uh, good luck with that suppository!

  5. Oh, the poor lad. Many kisses from Internet Auntie in Southern California.

    And, um, it’s MY birthday today. I LOVE mocha and a HFF mocha cake sounds wonderful. you can just pop one on a plane for me, right?? No problem!!

    Sigh. I’ll have to make do with a vicarious slice of the toffee one for your husband. Sob!!!

  6. Ouchy! Poor boy.

  7. Poor lamb. It’s a bummer, being a small kid. The WHOLE WORLD is out to smack you inna face. Poor little face. My sister fell off a step and put her teeth through her lip when she was four. I bit right through my tongue in a complicated piggy-back-gone-horribly-wrong incident when I was two. Also, an uncle dropped me on my head a week later. It’s not just little boys. It’s toddlers all. They WILL fall off, into, over and onto everything, and then a loving relation will BORK them. ‘S’life.

    Many many hugs for the pair of you. Oh, his poor tooth-marked lip. So glad inside-lips heal really quickly.

    Also, is it me, or is there a sort of birthday extravaganza going on here? It’s mine on Sunday.

  8. Oh, little Harry! Heal fast. And how is it that you’re still adorable even when wounded?

  9. Oh my goodness, what a nasty fall!

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