And now, for the Winner of the 2010 World's Worst Parent Award

There's plenty for me to talk about—how this is my last day of work, how we helped my parents move into their new house this weekend—but I just can't ignore the elephant in the room. Or should I say, the Allen wrench in the poop. Because yes, apparently my son swallowed a tool last week.

Let me pause here to give you some crucial information: This incident was all Noah's fault.

You see, Ethan and Noah the Defendant were in the child's room playing with some Allen wrenches. Mistake No. 1. Ever since the big boy bed debacle, Ethan has been obsessed with "fixing" his crib, a task that includes hammering crayons into screw holes using Pat the Hammer...

...and poking at them with the Allen wrenches. So when the Defendant picked Ethan up to change his diaper, it is my contention that he should have noticed the child placing the small Allen wrench into his mouth.

And then, when the child did a couple hard swallows and pointed to his open mouth when asked "What did you do with that little tool we were playing with?" it is my assertion that we the Defendant should have believed the child. Of course, we frantically searched his bedroom and found a small Allen wrench in the rug. Mystery solved!

Until two days later, when my mom texted me to say that she'd just found an Allen wrench in Ethan's dirty diaper. Commence flurry of text messaging.

Me to Noah: UM HE DID SWALLOW AN ALLEN WRENCH TWO DAYS AGO
Noah: No way he pooped it out???
Me: YES AND NOW I AM MAD AT YOU AND WANT A DIVORCE
Noah: Wow I'm speechless.
Me: YEAH WELL I HAVE HAD TIME TO REGAIN MY SPEECH AND THIS IS YOUR FAULT
Noah: I am very very sorry. When did this happen?
Me: Half an hour ago. He was in his crib crying like his heart was breaking and mom found it in his poo.

Mom: What did Noah say about Ethan?
Me: He was horrified and penitent, especially after I threatened divorce.


Then Dad jumped in with a valiant effort at deflecting blame.

Dad: Don't take your anger out only on Mobi (nickname, long story) as you knew the wrenches and I knew the wrenches were in Ethan's room and nobody picked them up.
Me: Okay. I will take it out on you too.
Dad: We all blew it on this one.
Me: Okay. But mostly you and Noah.
Dad: Don't think so.
Me: Kev, don't mess with me on this one. We could go down the blame road and point fingers at the tool company, or even Allen, but ultimately it comes down to Noah. And you.
Dad: I think the blame should stay on Allen.


After that was settled, I was left with one of the most horrible feelings imaginable: The what-ifs. For two days that tiny bit of metal moved through my precious boy's delicate little digestive system. Anything could have happened! A torn esophagus! A torn intestine! Not to mention the choking factor (shudder). I feel like I've failed Parenting 101 and only by Providential grace did it not end in disaster.

I guess I thought we'd covered it with Yummy Yucky (burgers are yummy, boogers are yucky, et al.) but obviously the book's core message didn't stick. And I mean, the kid is a week away from being two. I just didn't think that a small person who accurately uses the phrase "No way," with attitude, would still be at major risk for swallowing inedible objects TOOLS. My adult brain doesn't comprehend how a child who knows the proper use of a hex key would also be tempted to eat it.

We've saved The Item in a plastic baggy to take to the pediatrician and confess our sins when he goes for his two-year checkup next week. I've been monitoring his behavior and his doo doo for abnormalities as a precaution.

Although the ultimate precaution would have been not allowing our son to ingest an Allen wrench.