It all started innocently enough. Our typical bedtime ritual involves a well-intentioned attempt to give the kids a bath. It is part art and part science; essentially a strange combination of tag-team wrestling, hostage negotiation, bounty hunting, and lots of crying. We've debated drizzling soap on them and sending them to play in the sprinklers more than once...
On this particular evening, Mrs. Kod had finished with the kid and had turned her over to me to finish with drying and clothing. (Translation: This wasn't my fault. I was nowhere near the scene of the crime. Ask the kid.) Meanwhile, she attempted to finish up with Psycho Teething Baby. To be fair, PTB has been rather sweet lately now that her last lateral has broken through. However, she has also learned how to walk and is hell-bent by nature on using her new-found mobility and reach to get into everything. Somehow, she broke contain and managed to get her hands on Mrs. Kod's razor. Literally. It was nothing serious...perhaps the equivalent of an overly-ambitious paper cut.
However, some of us don't have issues with the sight of blood. Some of us have the ability to remain calm when confronted with the unexpected. And some of us go apesh!t. I'm looking at YOU, Mrs. Kod. (If she reads this, I'm sort of dead - so no one narc me out, m'kay?)
The kid and I were already reading bedtime stories when Mrs. Kod comes running in with the baby and plenty of "OMG!" "It won't stop bleeding." "Should we go to the ER?" Sigh. I had the pleasure of attempting to put a band-aid on a really small finger for an owner who was thoroughly disinterested in holding still. Still, I remembered that the Bear will not quit and the Bear will not die! I persisted and ultimately succeeded.
My triumphant smile lasted all of 2 seconds as PBT promptly put the bandaged finger in her mouth and ate the band-aid. Facepalm. Further attempts at compression failed. Finally, I managed to convince Mrs. Kod that her youngest offspring wouldn't bleed out. We agreed to put her to bed and I would re-attempt bandaging as needing after she fell asleep. Ten minutes after the little unholy terror angel passed out, I checked the finger. Without us poking, prodding, and messing with it, the finger had quite sensibly stopped bleeding all on its own.
But this isn't the best part...The next day, I woke up, headed to the bathroom, and was perplexed to find a neon orange patch on the carpet. Mrs. Kod didn't even know that the World Cup was happening, so it was unlikely to be a pro-Dutch statement. Instead, I find out that in her attempt to stop the bleeding, she had tried to apply a septic pencil to the finger. The wriggling baby drizzled blood + septic pencil on the carpet, so she tried to clean that up with water...which only made it larger. She then applied carpet cleaner to the area which made it larger still and came with a BOOM-science! side-effect. Apparently, the combination of blood + septic pencil + carpet cleaner = neon frickin' orange. Perhaps one of the brilliant CGB chemists can explain WTH happened here. (Even better - tell me how to un-orange the carpet!)
Perfectly natural and explainable. I'm sure the same thing has happened to everyone here...So 'fess up, CGB. Misery loves company. What un-intentioned disasters have you had around the house? Accidents? Pratfalls? Home-improvement projects gone rong?