This is a warning: if you’re easily offended or grossed out, close this page out immediately. Do not read any further.
I’ve spent the last hour wondering if I should discuss the events that occurred in my home this evening. But then I recalled that the reason I started this blog was to join other parents in the trenches – to encourage and foster that community. None of us are alone. Or whatever.
So here goes:
We all figure out in the first 5 minutes of parenting that there’s no handbook. Sure, What to Expect is lovely. But beyond the very basics, it’s useless. And even if there was a handbook, I can guaran-damn-tee you it would not contain a chapter entitled “How to Determine If Your Kid Has Been Butt-Raped by a Toy Giraffe.”
So yeah. It’s Monday and we’ve survived another day of work/school. My kids need a bath. I have them in the tub while I finish throwing their dinner together. For once they’re not being jackasses with the splashing. Suddenly I hear a godawful shrieking. It’s Stella.
As parents, we all become connoisseurs of caterwauling. It’s imperative to know the difference between a cry of pain or terror or the cry of a kid who’s just being an asshole. This was pain + terror. It was loud. It was alarming. I steeled myself and hurried to the bathroom. Maybe a bloody nose? A fat lip? I walked in to see my daughter standing up screaming and holding her butt.
It took a minute to figure out what happened. There was this stupid toy giraffe in the tub. In what must have been a one in a thousand chance, she sat right down on it. Hard.
What in the hell do you do? There is no previously-established protocol for this. No standard operating procedure.
First I figured I needed to know which part hurt: her butt or her girl bits.
“Stella: is it your butt or your vagina that hurts?”
“Waaaaaaaah!! What’s a ‘bagina?'”
“You know, your girl bits? Your front butt?” It was the back butt. Ok. Deep cleansing breath.
Now the hard part. Did it go in there? At this point I’m having nightmare scenarios of having to take my daughter to the ER and being arrested for being a sick pedo.
I finally got her out of the tub and laid out on a towel so I could look. Everything appeared normal. I gave her a Tylenol and dinner and all seems right with the world. But that giraffe? It’s toast. Totally.