Today Rug tells me she stepped on a gumball yesterday, and sure enough, there is part of the gumball stuck in her foot. I had to send her to preschool that way since she would not let me touch it. I warned her, if I didn't get it out, Daddy would and that would not be something she would want. But, tra-la-la, off she goes.
When LP gets home, we literally have to strap her down and hold her to get the thing out. I am so surprised the neighbors did not call the police. All they heard was, "NO! NOT THE TWEEZERS! OH GOD NO NOT THE TWEEZERS!!" They probably thought, God, what kind of sickos do we live next to? Tweezers? What kind of un-American torture is that? What happened to just sending them to time out?
He finally got it out after numerous bouts of hyperventilating, and I took her to the frozen custard stand for some marshmallow delight.
I wish I would've gotten that episode on video. They could show that to the teenagers in health class!
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