There are certain experiences that I dread as a mom, but I feel them lurking around corners and hiding under staircases. One of those finally happened yesterday.
Ever since Captain Poops could crawl and was turned lose in my kitchen I have feared the oven. Stove is still out of reach, but the oven is right there and very hot. Luckily, whether by sense or shear luck, we have avoided the oven up until now and listened to all the 'no's.
But last night, at the end of a rotten day, when I was taking out dinner from a 450 degree oven, Captain Poops decided to help me push the rack back inside. With this result.
I got some cold water on it, and tried to get him to hold some ice, play in ice water, and eat an ice cream sandwich with that hand to no avail.
He was a very brave boy, and with a bath, some Neosporin, infant Tylenol, and lots of hugs and kisses he did go to sleep. And didn't even wake up during the night. Sweet boy.
And no complaints today, so I guess we just need to keep watching those blisters and make sure nothing gets infected.
4 comments:
Poor darling boy! We've avoided that, but barely. Lucy touched hot food first, and that was unpleasant enough that she seems to know what "hot" means now. Poor little guy! Hope he gets those little fingers all better soon!
It looks like he takes after his mother (waffle iron) but probably won't have as cool of a scar. Kiss him for me.
Yikes!!! GRacie grabbed the heating element in the bottom of the dishwasher when I was unloading it once when she was about Gilbert's age. Her poor fingers. I was worried that her little fingers would be disfigured for life. BUT, they healed fine and she is VERY cautious around anything hot now. Maybe he feels some pressure to live up to his middle name. We miss you guys!
That's always the hardest to handle! Give him a big kiss from us. Good thing he's resilient and young, as he showed us with the ant bites.
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