Abbey and The Bead

I've been in major cleaning mode this week. I usually resist that urge when it strikes (remember, I have a lot of sloth in me) but this week I caved and let me tell you that things are sparklin' around here. I've cleaned out every single closet, cleaned out every single kitchen cabinet and every single kitchen drawer, wiped down every single baseboard, wiped down every single slat of every single blind, and even cleaned the bathroom light fixtures. Whew...I'm tired just typing all that. I think I'm good for the next couple of years as far as a major cleaning goes. smile.

Anyway, while I was cleaning my kitchen cabinets earlier this week, I came across this:

If you're wondering what that is, it's a bead. And it is taped to the inside of my kitchen cabinet because there is a story to go with this particular pink bead.

About this time two years ago, I remember Abbey running into the kitchen, crying hard and trying in her best 3-year-old way to tell me something. She was crying hysterically, so it took me a few minutes to figure out that she was telling me she had a bead IN HER NOSE! A BEAD IN HER NOSE!

Now is probably a good time to tell you that John is the one who best deals with crisis moments around here. Vomit and blood and beads-up-the-nasal-cavity fall into his department...I'm usually not my best in such moments. And of course, he wasn't home that particular morning. Of course.

So I got Abbey calmed down for a moment, collected my wits, and called the doctor's office. I answered a myriad of questions (yes, she can breathe, no, there's no blood, yes, it hurts and that's why she's crying, etc), then loaded everyone into Minnie-the-Van and headed to the doctor's office. I guess they were concerned because we didn't have to wait the usual 20 minutes to see the doctor. They herded us into a room right away and shined some very bright lights on my daughter's upturned face. The good doctor could see the bead, apparently a very good sign, and she just needed to retrieve it from Abbey's very small nose. She inserted some instrument which flared the nostril and had me hold the light AND my daughter's flailing hands (superhuman strength for the moment, I guess) and after two or three attemps she produced the lovely pink bead.

That was it. The whole ordeal was over in about 40 minutes. And now we laugh about it.

Every once in awhile, Abbey will notice that bead taped up to the inside of my cabinet, and will tell me that she's "never gonna stick another bead in her nose...never, ever". And I for one believe her.


And maybe I should take that bead down and put it in her scrapbook, because of course I took pictures for the scrapbook, but for now, it's a reminder of everyday life in our home. There is never a dull moment...never, ever.