We went to a cookout over the weekend. Our friends prepared a classic fourth of July spread with hotdogs, hamburgers, chips, cookies, cocktails and of course, popsicles. They had a blow-up pool and an inflatable slide with a small pool at the bottom to reduce the impact of the slider hitting the ground.
Little Legs tackled the climbing wall which led to the top of the slide like a professional mountain climber after watching the other kids make the ascent a few times. Baby Brother also attempted the climb. His arms and legs were neither long enough to reach the grips nor strong enough to hold on. He was sentenced to a life at the bottom.
Unhappily, he threw himself out of the pool and flipped onto his back with his arms and legs in the air, writhing like an upside-down-blonde-haired-boy-beetle.
I ran over to check on him to find him laughing at my worry and noticed out of the side of my eye that one of the hosts ran just as quickly next to me. He stopped a few feet short and to the right of the bug and knelt to examine the black, electrical cord snaking its way through the water to the house.
Without a word, he returned to this seat with the other adults.
It was only later that I learned he was testing the cord to see if Baby Brother was being shocked.
“That’s exactly the way a person looks when they are being electrocuted,” he explained to Daddy Longlegs who then explained it to me.
I felt like throwing up. The known risks that face our children are endless and no matter how much helicoptering and preventative steps are taken, there are still the sinisterly common things which pose an equal and unavoidable threat.
A strike of lighting, poisonous spider bite, rusty nail through the foot, there are too many points of danger to consider. All I can do is my best to protect and care for them and it has to be enough, but oh, how my anxious heart and mind do worry.