Spit it out...NOW

With WBW come and gone, I have gotten on a roll with posting daily. (Really, I typed and scheduled all my posts for WBW, which means I haven't really blogged all week. And every time I have wanted to sit down and blog something, I remembered I already had posts ready for the week...and I just don't do more than one post a day. So, I have several pretty good stories from this past week to fill up my blogging needs for a while now!)

Here's one of those good stories.

Bug loves getting on the computer and playing with everything on the desk and in the drawers. I mean, he LOVES it. Usually, I tell him he isn't allowed, and I keep the chair pushed into the desk. Other times (usually after a massive melt down on Bug's part, and no patience on my part), I just let him up there to play and I sit on the couch with a good book. It keeps him entertained for a while. Plus, I'm married to a computer guy, so if Bug seriously screws something up, I know I have someone coming over to fix it around 6pm.

Eventually, Bug will get off the computer and run around playing with all his other toys (or all of my other belongings that he thinks are his toys). And, eventually, I get a whiff of that lovely smell that reminds me I'm a mom, and I should probably change Bug's diaper before I start the next chapter in my book.

So, that's where I was, down on the floor getting out a diaper and wipes, trying to coax Bug over to me with my best motherese. But Bug wouldn't come near me. He had that look on his face that told me he was doing something wrong....and I could tell he had something in his mouth. Hmm....sometimes he looks like that and I try to fish whatever it is out of his mouth, only to realize it is a cheerio or piece of a graham cracker. (Of course, I always wonder what he just finished doing to make him look so guilty before he put the little snack in his mouth.) However, my intuition told me that what he had in his mouth this time was something that shouldn't have been in there. I held my hand out and told him to come spit whatever it was out. He, hesitantly but obediently, walked over to me and spat out, with a great streaming strand of saliva and spit bubbles.....

Eight safety pins and a paper clip.