It’s sure a good thing I never had those stick peas up your nose or rocks in your ears sorta kids. I’m thinking now, as we go through all the safety measures of prepping our house for a home study, that my kids looked around at some point and thought, “Okay comrades, we’re clearly on our own here. No peas up the nose and no drinking the laundry soap. Capiche?”
Because I’ve never had a cupboard lock on anything and like the horrible human that I am, I keep my dishwasher detergent right under the kitchen sink. Can you imagine?
For 15 years I have parented without ever having one of those plugger things in an electrical socket. Guess what? Noone ever stuck anything in there. Could it be that by drawing attention to these things, by guarding them up and making them off limits we’re simply taunting the child? I mean, if you’re going to all of these measures to keep us away from it, it must be good! The only other thing that mom gets so crazy about is her chocolate!
As if it wasn’t bad enough that we never baby proofed a dang thing, we have also never had an assembled first aid kit. Sure, there are band-aids in random drawers in the kitchen….or bathroom….or somewhere. I know there are band aids somewhere! You might find a leaking tube of expired polysporin in the back of a bathroom cupboard (not locked up, naturally) as well, but our first aid “kit” (exaggerated air quotes) is mostly an aloe vera plant on the kitchen table coupled with a cuddle and a kiss. It’s really all we’ve ever needed.
Of course, there have been accidents and someone has required a tensor or some guaze pads or something but then we just run out and buy them cause there are 6 stores that sell them in a 5 minute radius. I never truly felt the need to be oversupplied. I’m a minimalist, remember? And too many supplies makes for clutter.
But here we are, finding ourselves in the position of having to safe guard our home. Despite the deep guttural groan that came from the kids when we initially said the words “net” and “pads” in the same sentence as “trampoline,” I think we’re doing okay.
We picked up a box and a lock to keep all the medicinal objects and vitamins in.
The actual lock boxes were in the seventy five smackers range so we got a little creative. And ghetto. What of it.
We also wondered the aisles of Canadian Tire and came to the conclusion that there is no rhyme or reason to the way that place is laid out. However, we were happily surprised that when we asked a girl where to get those electrical socket plugger things she said right away, “oh, with the infant stuff in aisle 3!” Score! Except that aisle three was automotive. Infant? Automotive? So she mixed up the sections that start with vowels. No big. And despite our endless wanderings we realized that this store does not have an infant section. Like, at all.
Alas, next to aisle 3 was aisle 4 and that’s where I discovered that tool boxes lock! And are a quarter of the price of fancy schmancy lock boxes. So 17 year old girl who led us astray on the infant section, we thank you. You saved us a wad of cash!
The question did come, as I knew it would, as we were pricing out fire extinguishers and booking vaccinations for the dog.
“How come we didn’t have all of this stuff when we were babies?”
And there it was. The, do-you-love-this-child-that-we-dont-even-have-yet-better-than-me, question.
“Well,” I stated, “The thing is that you were super smart and we knew you just knew not to drink bleach or fly off the trampoline. Because those things are dangerous. We knew that you would never consider sticking things in electrical sockets because they were for plugs, not knives. We knew that you were so logical that you would just get all of that. And really, it’s not like you’re dying to take your vitamins so much everyday that you would overdose on the fish oil, right? That’d be silly. Yeah. We knew that you were wise beyond your years and that you’d figure out a lot of things about the world and safety was your middle name.”
“My middle name is Night.”
“Yeah, we just thought those cupboard locks were annoying so….”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I get it.”
And that was that.
Now if you’ll excuse me the battery on my lap top is about to die and I have to figure out how to unplug that plastic thing so I can plug it in. I wonder if a knife will do the trick.
p.s. I know once we’re in placement stage I can no longer talk about anything to do with fostering on here so I figured I’d get all my talks out before I sign confidentiality agreements.