Blockhead

I'm just glad I wasn't here for the festivities.

Last night, Nicole had to call 911 because of a Gamble emergency.

He's fine now. He didn't even have to go to the hospital, and the problem was resolved before the authorities arrived, but I'm sure it was nerve-wracking for Nicole, who was here alone with both kids while I drove downtown to pick up Kathy from the Megabus. By the way, if any family members want to come visit for the weekend, it's about $40 round trip to bus it from Toledo, and We can certainly come out to Union Station to pick you up. It's a great way to spend a long weekend seeing these two faboo kids.

When I left the house, I had just tucked Gamble into bed. He was trying to sleep like a big boy without his normal nightlight, so it was pitch black in his room. When I put him in there, his bed was full of toys. I even asked him if he wanted me to sweep the toys out of his bed so he wouldn't roll over on top of them. We left with happy thoughts and dreams for good wishes.

So I was surprised when Nicole called me in the car and told me that she'd just gotten done with the emergency folks after calling 911. I immediately asked her what happened.

"He had a block stuck in his mouth?"

"WHAT?!? How big was it?"

Kid's just like me. He's already a nail-biter, and puts just about everything absentmindedly into his mouth. It's not a surprise, but definitely presents a risk for this sort of thing to happen.

"It was a big green block." She explained that when she went into his room because he was screaming, she saw that it was pitch black and figured that he was freaking out because it was dark. She was surprised that the screaming didn't stop.

She called in the emergency immediately, and then tried to help get it out. It was wedged behind his teeth, and eventually, they managed to work it out, but it was quite the scare.

Nicole confessed to me that if there had been a camera handy and she could have ensured a clear
airway, she would have taken a picture of him, with his mouth wedged open and his tears and his
terror. I suggested that it would have been a good object lesson to take a picture with his thumb up and smiling as well.

That way, whenever he was making a bad decision, we could hold up both pictures and ask him, "Ok, Gamble. Which boy made the good decision, and which one made the bad decision?"

Not to worry. All is well.