"Doing In" My Husband and Other "Mistakes"

I am scatterbrained even on my best days. And in terms of organization, the days lately are far from my best. This is the excuse, however lame, I am using for the dangerous, but overall humorous, shenanigan I pulled earlier this week...

I was making lunch for Joshua on Tuesday. Chicken Curry, one of his favorites. The chicken was not thawing fast enough, and I was in a hurry (no surprise there).

Mistake Number One: In my haste to get it on the stove, I plunged the knife between two frozen breasts, and twisted. I heard a crack, and as the knife came loose, I realized that the tip of it, about 3/8 of an inch, had broken off in the chicken.

Mistake Number Two: Since I didn't have time to let it thaw completely, I decided I should just go ahead and cook it. When it was done, I dug around in the offending piece of chicken for the knife. I could see the knife tip, but couldn't seem to get it loose. Keep in mind, this chicken is in a thick, dark curry sauce. All of the sudden I lost track of the knife tip. Oh. Great. Did I get it out, and it fell in the sauce? Or did I push it deeper into the chicken? I wasn't excited about either prospect.

Mistake Number Three: I dished up the Curry, thinking that this sizable, shiny knife shard would be easy to spot once it was in a smaller portion on his plate. I actually gave him the chicken the shard would have been in intentionally, because I wanted him to find it. As I handed him the chicken, I announced the situation, and that he needed to be on the lookout.

Twenty minutes later, I asked Joshua if he had found the knife. He hadn't. Hmmm. I ate my chicken. I didn't come across it either. I dished the leftovers into a container, and no knife shard to be found. Double hmmm.

Ten hours later:

Sandra: You know, I'm a little worried about that knife shard.

Joshua: I'm surprised you gave it to me. I would have thrown that piece out.

Sandra: Yeah, I should have. I don't know what I was thinking (Hmmm, I don't know, maybe about the BABY screaming in the background as I rushed around to get lunch ready?!?). We should say a little prayer.

So we said a little prayer.

Twenty minutes later I can't get the chicken out of my head. I decide that I'm going to inspect the chicken again. Joshua says that we should use the metal dectector. Seriously?!? We are going to metal detect our chicken?!? So we did. I'm sure we looked a hot mess in our front yard metal detecting our Chicken Curry. But we didn't find it.

I was certain that Joshua would have been the one who ingested the knife, seeing as how I gave him that piece on purpose. And since we couldn't find it in the chicken, it must surely be making its way through his intestinal tract by now. This was not good.

Next step: call all the medical professionals we know. They reassured us that he wouldn't die, but a knife in your intestines could do some damage. (Ya think?) We were told that we could wait it out to see if it passed.

"How do we know if there's a problem?" we asked.

"It will hurt if there is a problem", Dr. Serge said.

"How long will it take?" said I.

"How long does it take to see corn after you eat it?" Queried the good doctor. (Really? How scientific!) "Wait that long, plus 24 hours. If it hurts, or you have a fever, that's bad, very bad, and you must go to the ER straightaway."

Okay, then. Since all we had to do was wait, we might as well look through the chicken again. If that didn't work, we were going to metal detect Joshua. Yes, you read that correctly.

So we looked through the chicken. We didn't have to metal detect Joshua because we found the missing knife tip. It was in the sauce after all. It was a lot harder to see than you would think, since it's a shiny metal object. But evidently it shininess was overpowered by the dark thick curry sauce.

What a relief. I haven't been that scared since the time I went to pick Joshua up from a day of fishing and couldn't find him and it was after dark and there was no cell phone signal. And there was fast moving water and no street lights because it was in a State Park.

But that's another story. The moral of this story is: don't feed your family sharp objects. There's a good chance they will puncture their intestines. You wouldn't think I would have to learn that one from experience, but apparently, when you combine everyday tasks and new motherhood, you'll get some doozies.

The End.

Thank you for listening.

And here's the knife: