It Only Takes a Moment

Isaiah told me something today that stopped my heart. He said, “You know that thing that was on my shield? I ate it. I didn’t know.”

I must have looked puzzled, I assumed he ate a toy, for crying out loud. Then I thought about his shield, and he’d had a box of mints on it, so I asked about those. He said, “No. It was medicine. I didn’t know.”

Cue heart racing panic.

Daimean chimes in, “Yeah, he ate a Rolaids. It was on the dining room table.”

Yesterday I pulled a few coins, and for some reason, a Rolaids chewable tablet, from my pocket and absentmindedly set them on the table, then wandered off and forgot. Of course, one single Rolaids isn’t going to hurt him, but it’s a hell of a reminder that medicine often looks and/or tastes like candy, and it only takes one second for a child to eat it.

Please excuse me while I try to get my heart rate back under 200, and take a moment to be thankful that it was only antacid that I’d been careless with, and not Tylenol, Mortin or Excedrine – any of which may be found in my pockets or bag on any given day.