Soen, in a completely unfaithful re-enactment of Monday night's drama.
After dinner Monday night I took Soen to an awesome playground in Hugh McRae Park. He ran around and had a great time. As we were walking back to the car, I was reflecting on how nice it was here. It was a warm night, the sun was setting, the pine trees smelled nice (although not as nice as the chicken that a Mexican family was grilling on the public grill), and my son was in a good mood, walking behind me. Then I heard an odd sound. I turned around and saw him a few paces behind me, looking worried. Then he opened his mouth and started to choke and wave his hands in ront of his face like he had just eaten something spicey. As there was no food around, I couldn't imagine what he had eaten. I asked him, but he was too scared to talk. he had already swallowed whatever it was, so all I could do was console him and take him to the fountain to drink some water, all the while asking him what he had eaten and wondering if I should be rushing him to the hospital. Then he picked up a piece of bark.
"You ate a piece of bark?" Bark? Who eats bark? It doesn't look even remotely yummy. I could understand if it was pink and blue and fluffy. Or if we had specifically told him, "You can eat anything you want, but whatever you do, never ever eat bark." At least then there would be mystery and temptation. But my son, who loves sushi and caviar but who I can't get to even try hot chocolate or macaroni and cheese, picked up a piece of bark and thought it looked delicious enough to eat. And then I remembered a little while ago when he went up to a tree and tried to take a bite out of it. But I just thought he was being silly or mimicking a movie or something. How was I supposed to know he really wanted to eat some bark?
"You ate a piece of bark?" He said, "yes" in that crying way kids have of admitting to doing something naughty, like breaking a vase or something. He then clung to me and started to whine that it was hurting him. I looked at the bark and tried to figure out if--aside from it being painful to swallow--there was any real problem with eating bark. The piece I was looking at had some small bit of fungus or mold on it. That's probably not good, right? Was it worth going to the hospital? Who ever heard of pine bark poinsoning? It's probably packed with fiber at least, right? Finally, I just decided everything was going to be OK and got him to swallow several gulps of water. After a while he calmed down and I thought this would be a good time to bring up the lesson of the day, "Never eat anything unless you ask Mommy and Daddy first." Although on the ride home, when I asked him what we learned from this experience, he just made a funny face, so I doubt the message got through.
We got home and the first thing he said to Mommy was, "Mommy I ate bark," and then he got all upset again. This of course brought up the inevitable question, "You let my son eat bark?" to which there really is no good answer.
As you can see from this photo, taken today, when I asked him to make the face he made when he ate the bark, the epiode left almost no impression on him and I wonder how long before he decides to eat something else, like concrete. In that case, I might go to the hospital.
After dinner Monday night I took Soen to an awesome playground in Hugh McRae Park. He ran around and had a great time. As we were walking back to the car, I was reflecting on how nice it was here. It was a warm night, the sun was setting, the pine trees smelled nice (although not as nice as the chicken that a Mexican family was grilling on the public grill), and my son was in a good mood, walking behind me. Then I heard an odd sound. I turned around and saw him a few paces behind me, looking worried. Then he opened his mouth and started to choke and wave his hands in ront of his face like he had just eaten something spicey. As there was no food around, I couldn't imagine what he had eaten. I asked him, but he was too scared to talk. he had already swallowed whatever it was, so all I could do was console him and take him to the fountain to drink some water, all the while asking him what he had eaten and wondering if I should be rushing him to the hospital. Then he picked up a piece of bark.
"You ate a piece of bark?" Bark? Who eats bark? It doesn't look even remotely yummy. I could understand if it was pink and blue and fluffy. Or if we had specifically told him, "You can eat anything you want, but whatever you do, never ever eat bark." At least then there would be mystery and temptation. But my son, who loves sushi and caviar but who I can't get to even try hot chocolate or macaroni and cheese, picked up a piece of bark and thought it looked delicious enough to eat. And then I remembered a little while ago when he went up to a tree and tried to take a bite out of it. But I just thought he was being silly or mimicking a movie or something. How was I supposed to know he really wanted to eat some bark?
"You ate a piece of bark?" He said, "yes" in that crying way kids have of admitting to doing something naughty, like breaking a vase or something. He then clung to me and started to whine that it was hurting him. I looked at the bark and tried to figure out if--aside from it being painful to swallow--there was any real problem with eating bark. The piece I was looking at had some small bit of fungus or mold on it. That's probably not good, right? Was it worth going to the hospital? Who ever heard of pine bark poinsoning? It's probably packed with fiber at least, right? Finally, I just decided everything was going to be OK and got him to swallow several gulps of water. After a while he calmed down and I thought this would be a good time to bring up the lesson of the day, "Never eat anything unless you ask Mommy and Daddy first." Although on the ride home, when I asked him what we learned from this experience, he just made a funny face, so I doubt the message got through.
We got home and the first thing he said to Mommy was, "Mommy I ate bark," and then he got all upset again. This of course brought up the inevitable question, "You let my son eat bark?" to which there really is no good answer.
As you can see from this photo, taken today, when I asked him to make the face he made when he ate the bark, the epiode left almost no impression on him and I wonder how long before he decides to eat something else, like concrete. In that case, I might go to the hospital.
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2 comments:
This could sure cut down on your food bill.
Wait till he passes it.
Love dad
I thought for sure you were going to say he ate a gecko.
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