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All in a Day’s Work

When my son found me, there was no sound with his tears.  Just the build up of sound.

Until the words finally came in squeaks.

“I…I didn’t mean to,” he said.  “And it didn’t hurt at all…”

He paused to sob.  And I cradled my boy.

“But I swallowed one of those balls.”

I held his face in my hands.  “Tell mommy, honey,” I said.  “Tell mommy what you mean.”


With sad eyes and small fingers, he described  a steely–a steel ball we use to play with our magnets.

We have several.

It’s just no one’s thought to taste one.

Until this morning.


I rocked my son still seated on the carpet.  We waited for daddy’s diagnosis.  “He’ll be okay,” my husband shouted.  He read from the computer screen.  “Looks here like he’s not the first kid.  We just gotta wait now for it to come out.”

Which it did.

At 4:30.




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