Challenging myself to tell a simple story, I recalled a classic moment early in my son's life. Every mother finds herself doing something she thought she would never have to deal with. We often crack ourselves when we consider things we never thought we'd have to say.
We were laughing and poking at each other, keeping an eye on the toddler as he played around the house. He was having great fun climbing up the old steps and then back down, turning around to cackle at us and then back up the steps. It was a moment of perfect peace as we soaked the last lingering rays of the sunset.
"What is he chewing on?" Becky asked pointing to him.
I looked closer at my son's face and saw indeed he was chewing with much enthusiasm as slobbery brown juices dripped off his chin. Becky scooped him up and wrestled with him as he tried to keep his treasures in his mouth. After a moment she got a finger into his cheeks and swiped out his mouth.
She began to squeal, gag and shake her hands, yelling for us to "Help him, Help him!" She continued to squeal and dance around yard. The panic spurred us up off our chairs and we ran to the now frightened toddler. As he wailed, my mom swept his mouth clear and held the contents up to show me.