don't ask, don't tell

Mothers have an uncanny knack for knowing things; many children believe that their mother actually has eyes in the back of her head. It is not so much that they see more than any other adult, it’s just that they HAVE to know/remember more stuff: when the field trip money is due, where junior left his library book, who needs new Sunday shoes, what an isosceles triangle is, how to get food into a toddler, how to spell every word and fix any problem…

Last night at dinner, while Kira was doing the “get food into a toddler” drill, the conversation turned to things I didn’t know as my children were growing up. There was the time my three younger children were watching TV and popping gobstoppers. Seven-year-old Isaac popped one into his mouth and it went right past his tongue into his throat where it stuck. Fortunately, his 14-year-old brother knew the Heimlich maneuver and Isaac is alive today. That prompted Eli’s recounting of the time he was 15 and rehearsing for the musical “Grease” at the high school. He was playing guitar in the pit, but couldn’t decide whether or not to use a pick. Just then the conductor said, “Pick-up to measure 16, let’s go,” and started the music. Eli quickly popped the pick in his mouth, where he kept it between his teeth when he wasn’t using it, but he popped it too quickly and instead of catching it in his teeth, it went down his throat where it stuck. He is playing his guitar while trying to get it back out, but he realizes the only direction it can go is down. “I had a terrible time getting it down, and it hurt like the dickens, but I swallowed it!”

I have decided that mothers, although they know many wonderful things, shouldn’t know everything, at least not until enough time has passed that fainting and panic can be replaced with a bit of laughter. Now I’m wondering if that pick is still stuck in him somewhere, but I don’t think I really want to know.