I was making supper tonight, distracted, thinking about other things. Jonah's been going from one
At one point he got down and said he needed to go wash his hands. I thought this was a ploy to be allowed to play in the kitchen sink next and I told him to go use the bathroom sink. After a few minutes, he came back to the utensils, and I called a stop to it an put his chair away.
Still tuning him out, it took a while for his chatter to get from my ears to my brain: "Mom, it's painting! It's painting Mom! Mooooommmmyyyy...!"
Finally I looked at him. "What are you talking about?!? Can't you quit bugging me while I'm making sup... Oh!" He was continually wiping blood on his shirt and anything else within reach.
I had forgotten about the steak knives...
Upon taking him into the bathroom to clean him up (and delight him to his very toddler marrow with a bandaid), I discovered blood pretty much everywhere.
My silverware and utensils looked like they came off the set of a slasher-flick.
Where the hippy-hoo-ha was I anyway while he was bleeding all over everything???