Oh Isaiah. Why must you forever ignore my wise instruction and find out things the hard way?
When you were two years old I turned my back for a moment and you somehow unlatched the
kitchen cabinet, opened the big tub of Crisco grease and smothered yourself and your surroundings
with the white material. It took me six hours to clean up the mess. Bathing a toddler covered in
thick, slippery vegetable oil was never adressed in any parenting books I owned. I had to thumb
through Popular Mechanics instead.
And then there was the whole machete incident. You were told to never, ever touch it. It was put
far out of your reach but we underestimated your ability to haul a 6 foot ladder across the garage.
Unfortunately your little brother was in the vacinity when you decided to harvest a zuchinni from the
garden, throw it up in the air and chop it with the weapon. In the emergency room I overheard the
doctor say to the nurse “Who lets their kid PLAY WITH A MACHETE??”
I guess that’s all history now and your brother has forgiven you for costing him seven stitches across
the bridge of his nose. But when you came to me and said “Look at my tongue!” I was somewhat
shocked that you haven’t outgrown your need to break rules.
Who cares if your friends said nothing would happen if you stuck your tongue on a cold metal object
in the middle of a Minnesota winter? Why did you feel the need to prove them wrong? Especially since
it’s winter break at school and you’re not going to see them again for two weeks.
Yes, I know it hurts. I don’t know how long it takes to grow taste buds back or why, if taste buds
can grow back, your little finger cannot. Don’t you DARE try to experiment with THAT one.
Let’s give your guardian angel a winter break, too.
