Phips and the City

The move and temporary housing resulted in a few dark parenting moments.

The first followed after I lectured the girls about the use of glue. I closed with a threat they had BETTER NOT leave it anywhere their brother could see it. I was righteous & nasty, which reminded karma that I was due some redirection. Sure enough, Phips’ face is covered in super glue within 2 minutes.

The ironic punchline is, of course, the superglue was mine.

The girls had put away their’s and were loudly proclaiming their innocence, as the where-the-hell-is-the-phone-do-we-go-to-the-ER-grab-him-do-something scuffle ensued. We were still living in the “dorm” at this point, and the resident unwashed masses were enjoying this spectacle greatly. I believe they started a drinking game, taking a shot every time I cursed. Maybe they didn’t. But they should have.

Matt swooped in to hang Phips over the toilet and jamming his fingers down his throat to make him throw up, alternating with violent face scrubbing. I got on the phone to Phip’s grandfather (a doctor with a 40 year career), who surely had never seen anything like this. Turns out he had. He suggested we call poison control.

(As an aside–I should have had that number. Not just because my 3 anarchists have a proclivity for stupid decisions, but because Nugget was a prolific eater of non-food items. At age 3 she drank a bottle of perfume and, at a mall, ate change out of my purse like M&Ms. She chased all those pennies down with a battery about a week later. I was a poison control frequent flyer.)

As Phips was being gagged like an unwilling bulemic, I called the PC. Their operator told me that if his lips weren’t glued shut (who are the parents who let that happen???) it really wasn’t a big deal. Turns out super glue is not a poison, but an “irritant”. I’ll say.

Despite our ensuing vigilance, we ran into more trouble.

Yesterday, when I came home, I was told there had been a “small incident”. Those were Matt’s EXACT words. It turns out Phips, clad only in a diaper, had exited our fence. (This is an ongoing problem we have actively chosen to ignore. Matt treats the the perimeter of our property like it has the unlikely break-out potential of Guantanamo, I just pretend none of this is happening, because it will all be fine anyway.)

Phips toddled to the corner, about 25 feet, where two fifth grade girls eagerly and swiftly called the police.

I am cynical about this.

I am happy I didn’t get a call from three towns over and someone cared enough to take action. BUT, we all know those two girls had been DYING to call 911 since they could count. This is no girl scout do-goodery. This is “YEAH! FINALLY! And I have a cell phone with me!!! Let’s dial before the parents get here!”. I say this because Phips was just barely away from the house and if they had said in normal decibel level “Does anyone here know this snot covered turnip,” Matt could probably have heard them through our closed front door with the radio blaring–he was THAT close.

Sure enough, the Burlington PD was on it. This is especially ironic, given that recently our neighborhood listserv has been hotly debating the inefficacy of police response and was actually organizing forums to address this widespread problem.

No negligent-response luck for us: Matt had to prove, through a serious of trick questions, that he was 1. the father, 2. had a home, 3. would never let this happen again. Then they called the land line (which thankfully had been installed not 24 hours previously!!!) and he had to answer the same questions again.

Later, when I took Phips to the playground, the two girls approached me and asked if I was “with that kid” because they had to “rescue him” earlier that day. When I said “yes” I was further questioned whether I lived in “the white house” and if I was his mother. It appears even 5th grade girls are concerned about our parenting.

Check back for a photo of Houdini and the “security measures” Matt put in place.

Explore posts in the same categories: life

Tags: bad parenting, Burlington, super glue, toddler management

You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.