aka The Frazzled Mom
Before I had a family, including kids, I would spend time taking my niece and nephew out to places like the museum. On one particular occasion, I’d taken my nephew to McDonald’s so he could play. At that time, I had borrowed my dad’s truck. It needed an oil change so I figured I’d do both. I dropped off the truck and asked that we be taken to the McDonald’s down the street. No problem!
Yeah, there was a slight one. The auto place had said once the truck was done that they’d pick us up and bring us back so we could go home. But after waiting (and my nephew playing) at McDonald’s for nearly three hours, it became tiresome. There would be no ride.
I packed up our things and, along with my nephew who was maybe five or six at the time, we headed down the street to get the truck and go home. It was a warm day and the walk a long one. In fact, looking over our journey, I’ve realized that it was nearly a 2 mile walk. For me alone, that wouldn’t have been a problem. With my nephew? Problem. Only a few steps into the walk and he was already complaining. I hoisted him up onto my back in piggyback ride style and continued on down the street. Halfway to our destination, I stopped at a store. We were both red from the heat. I wasn’t worried about me so much as him. So I purchased water and we guzzled it down before continuing on.
Up on my back, he still complained…about the heat, about the distance, about life in general. At one point, he whined that we were “gonna die”. I rolled my eyes and kept trudging along with the added weight on my back. I was exhausted by the time we reached the truck. Buckled in and safety underway with the air conditioner running full blast, we both breathed a sigh of relief. While I took in more water, he sat in the back finishing up the rest of his hamburger.
By the time we’d arrived home he was asleep. Poor little guy. They always look so sweet when they’re sleeping. I carried him in the house and placed him in bed so he could continue his nap more comfortably. I was about to turn away when I noticed something white protruding at the corner of his mouth. Frowning in confusion, I knelt down and, with great care not to wake him, I gently pried open his mouth. Suddenly this log, this mashed up chunk of bun, hamburger and cheese came popping out of him, like lancing a boil or popping a zit (yuk). Disgusting? Absolutely. Keep in mind, this was WAY before I’d ever had kids. My nephew had apparently fallen asleep mid-bite. Now, as a parent, the horrors of choking come to mind, but at that time? All I could think of was “kids are gross”, forgetting that I once was one.