Near Miss

Well, this afternoon was moderately horrific. I'm talking on the phone and Emma comes into the living room and spits something into my hand. "Mommy," she says, "this doesn't taste good." I look down and realize that what I'm holding is half a pill. So after some time with Poison Control and her pediatrician I got to wait around all afternoon for her to develop some horrible complication from this unidentifiable pill that she found wedged down in the corner of a jewelry box a friend had given her. Fortunately she's fine but it really freaked me out.

God, being the Mom sucks ass sometimes.