I have to confess that I was at least 6, but I think older, when I drew on my parents' sofa. It had a geometric pattern! I had a pen in my hand! I was just adding to the pattern!

So, not eating wrong things, but still really really wrong nonetheless.

I was five when I put my hand in the blender, just because my mother told me not to and then put my sister in charge of making sure I didn't when she left the room.

I was five when I put my hand in the blender, just because my mother told me not to and then put my sister in charge of making sure I didn't when she left the room.

Perkins wins points for the double whammy of defying her mother and getting her sister in trouble!

OMG so tired.

I stuffed a gazillion toothpicks into the car ignition when I was 5 ish.

And as to how you can make the stories haunt your child forever: my mom's been interviewing with principals this past week. The one today she's known since I was a toddler, and I know the woman too. How did she prompt my memory? "Oh, she's Garrett-with-the-beans-up-his-nose's mom. You remember her now?"

And I do. I can barely recall the child who I buddies with at that preschool, but I remember Garrett-with-the-beans-up-his-nose. He got a lot of them up there. It required a trip to the ER where the staff was just amazed at the number of beans in his nose.

Baked Potato remains sounds right, too.

The foot was MUCH less swollen yesterday-- almost normal. Today, I think because I have been upright all day and walking about, it is swollen, but not to anywhere near the size it was, say Tuesday night into Wednesday. At that point, I seriously thought my foot would burst

When I was a toddler I managed to swallow the metal ring from a diassembled ballpoint pen. My parents then tried the medically sound remedy of holding me upside down by my feet and shaking me until I coughed it up. (Worked, though.)

My sister put peas up her nose (as well as managed to get a Q-Tip shoved so deep into her ear that it almost got stuck). All I did was jump off the swing and nearly bite my tongue off when I was 3, trip jumping rope and nearly putting out my eye on the corner of a toybox when i was 4 (still have the nice scar just above my eyebrow), and swallow the coin my grandpa brought back for me from Sweden (still remember seeing the really cool X-ray of my stomach when Mom took me into the doctor's, but my poor aunt ended up retrieving the coin when it eventually worked its way out of my system--yes, in the very yucky way that I won't detail here).

no need, Kathy, I think we all know.

Oh, and Sophia, I was thinking about you last night when my cat decided that my forearm made nice prey and tried to bite it. After dumping her onto the floor and checking for bitemarks (she didn't dig in that hard, thank goodness!), I looked at her crouching on the floor beside the couch and eyeing the other forearm. I managed to stop her from leaping, but it took a concerted effort to snap her out of stalk mode. Very scary stuff, because I'd never seen her that keen to attack me before!