It was just another chaotic Friday evening. I returned home from work to find my partner, Jake, a stay-at-home dad, looking worn out after a long day of wrangling our two-year-old, Max. After I unloaded the groceries, he promptly declared he was off to take a well-deserved nap.
Supermom to the rescue! I had already preempted this scenario by picking up a rotisserie chicken from Costco, in spite of Jake’s ongoing complaints about their lack of organic options. Whatever, tonight we feast on hormone-laden chicken!
As I served our somewhat gourmet meal in my Wonder Woman pajama pants, Max sat at the table devouring his Costco chicken, croissant, and a lovely organic Fuji apple. Meanwhile, I noticed the growing pile of clutter on the kitchen table. Oh look, the picture frames for the school photos I ordered! I had no idea they had arrived. I decided to seize the moment and frame the pictures while Max munched away. Multitasking at its finest! Surely this would redeem my choice of dinner.
As Jake snoozed in the other room, I focused on my little tornado, who was shoveling food into his mouth. Just when I thought I could finish framing the photos, a sudden urgency hit me—I needed to use the restroom, and fast.
I moved Max’s food out of reach and asked him to swallow what he had in his mouth. My way of ensuring he wouldn’t choke while I was gone. I clicked on the TV—Paw Patrol was in full swing—and darted to the bathroom. I was gone less than two minutes, just enough time for a quick pee and a hand wash.
When I returned, my heart sank. Max was in front of a scattering of empty picture frame boxes. How did he reach those? He was holding something out to me, and I assumed it was just a piece of cardboard. As I bent down to take it, he chirped, “I ate it,” and I realized he was offering me one of those ominous silica gel desiccant packets that scream “DO NOT EAT.”
I yanked it from his hand, quickly checking for moisture. It felt dry, thank goodness. I asked him if he had put it in his mouth, and he confidently replied, “Yes, I ate it.” Panic surged through me as I spotted the empty packet on the table, a corner missing and damp with his saliva, little beads rolling around nearby. My body instinctively went into crisis mode; adrenaline shot through me like a bolt of lightning.
“Jake!” I screamed, searching Max’s mouth for any remnants while unbuckling him from his booster seat. My partner, plugged into his earphones, didn’t wake until I rushed in, flicking on the lights and demanding he get up immediately. I tossed my little rascal onto the bed and frantically explained the situation. I dashed for my phone, couldn’t find it, then sprinted back for Jake’s phone. Thankfully, he’s always prepared, and Poison Control was in his contacts.
Unlike calling 911 in our area, Poison Control answered promptly. A calm, professional voice greeted me, “Poison Control.” I blurted out, “My toddler ate a silica gel packet.” In my mind, I was already shedding my Wonder Woman pajama pants, mentally preparing for a trip to the children’s hospital. She reassured me, “This is one of the most common calls we receive. He’s fine, I promise.”
She explained that the warning is there because the packet itself poses a choking hazard. The pellets are harmless as long as he’s breathing and not in distress. She took some brief information and ended our call.
Jake had entered the room by then and could see the relief wash over me. I shared the news, placed his phone back on the counter, and then lost it—ugly crying, snot and all, definitely not worthy of my superhero pajamas.
Just to add to the chaos, Max had tagged along behind Jake, now picking up the beads from the floor and trying to eat them. We quickly cleared his mouth and ushered him out as we cleaned up the mess. Tears streamed down my face. He could have choked; he could have died. If it had been poison, it would have been a different story.
Jake pulled me aside for a moment of consolation. “He was never in any danger. He’s fine. I’m going to do some laundry. Try not to kill him while I’m gone.”
And just like that, it was another typical Friday night. When I reflect on it, I realize we’ve survived countless moments like this. Maybe I do deserve to wear those Wonder Woman pajamas after all. But seriously, screw those silica gel packets!
For more parenting tips, check out this post on fertility boosters for men. And if you’re looking for reliable information on infertility, this resource from WomensHealth.gov is excellent!
Summary
In a frantic Friday evening, a mother faces a near disaster when her toddler ingests a silica gel packet. After a series of panic-filled moments and a quick call to Poison Control, she learns the situation is not as dire as she feared. The story highlights the chaos of parenting and the unexpected challenges that arise, reinforcing the idea that even amidst panic, parents can find moments of humor and resilience.